Driven
by whiteironastrid
Summary: When Edward Elric wakes up in alley in East City, his body and mind are torn up. Now he has to search for the truth and escape the inevitable, driving him to the extreme that will leave him empty and bound to an evil he always hunted. COMPLETED.
1. The Night After

**_Driven - Black Haiyate_**

_Disclaimer -_**I do not own FMA or any of it's characters. :P**

_Warning - _**..None yet. XD Warnings will come in the beginning of every chapter if need be.  
**

**My first Fanfict.. kind of. So yeah.. don't be _too_ harsh. )  
**

His eyes opened to darkness. Pain surged through his body, but he couldn't pinpoint where it centered. His vision was blurry, and he couldn't make anything out in front of him, but he felt concrete under him, and as his senses returned, he realized it was raining, and he was soaked. His body wasn't numb, that he was aware of. Every more he tried to move his body to observe his surroundings, the more his head throbbed. He rolled onto his back and sat up, clutching a wall beside him for support and looked around nervously. Why was he in an alley? More importantly, why was his shirt torn, or why was he bleeding? And why couldn't he remember anything from the day before?

--

Making it home was the easy part, running into Roy Mustang on the way.. was not.

He wasn't far from home really, although the first few steps sent him to his knees. Luckily only one of his legs had any feeling. Every few steps he had to lean on the wall for support, but it was manageable. Until a certain car pulled up.

"Fullmetal?" A familiar voice pulled him out of his dazed state. Edward tried to stifle a groan, and refused to answer Mustang's call. It didn't take long for Mustang to notice his condition. "Fullmetal!" The car slowed to a stop beside him, so he stopped and leaned against the wall, turning to face Mustang, unsure of how he looked on the outside compared to the inside. Opening the car door, he approached Edward. "What happened?" He asked in an annoyed tone, yet Edward could sense the concern in the Colonel's voice.

Edward couldn't manage to find the words to explain what happened, so he shook his head. "I don't know... sir" He _must_ have been sick to call Colonel Airhead _that_. Although the thought of a ride home at a time like this made it feel like a wave of relief washed over him.

Mustang looked at Edward for a few moments, who looked up only once for a mere second when the Colonel didn't respond. Even in this light Mustang could see his eyes, dark and jaded, as if hiding some internal pain. He also noticed his shirt ripped in a few places, blood stained the edges of the strips of shirt that were remaining, but he couldn't show as much compassion as he did attention. The car was still running. "I'm heading back to Headquarters. You better come with me, you're in no position to go home alone tonight." He said, walking in between Edward and the car door, waiting to open it.

Edward nodded in agreement to the obvious, but hesitated when it came to pushing himself off the wall. Willing each foot to move one step at a time, he made it to the car door, which was now open, and collapsed on the back seat. He could only wonder what happened, his legs felt like rubber.

The door shut at his feet and Mustang took his spot at the front. "Fullmetal, what were you doing out in the city at night? That's probably why you're so beat up." The Colonel said.

_No..._ Edward thought, that wasn't it. Although he did wake up in the alley, internally beaten to a pulp, and suffering from an irritating memory loss, no one in the city could have done this. This lead him to the same place he was ten minutes ago in the alley, in pain and confused, trying to search every crevice of his mind and every memory of yesterday he held to try and remember what had happened; But all he found was, well, nothing but a sinking feeling that when he did find out, it would destroy him. For now he let his head rest again the seat of the car, when a thought hit him. "Well Colonel, I could ask you the same thing, shouldn't you be at your office this time of night?"

Mustang laughed, yet remained serious. "There's a local bar down here I go to sometimes."  
Edward perked up. "And you're _driving_?"  
"Calm down, Fullmetal. You're lucky I was driving down here at all for picking you up."

Edward groaned, unable to agree with the Colonel for his benefit, but he was right. Even after finding out the Colonel might be a little tispy, Edward found nothing but a feeling of trust for the man driving, and tried to rest, letting his mind sink into the shadow of sleep.

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**Mmm, if everyone likes it I'll continue. Please read and review. **


	2. Skipping a beat

_**Driven - Black Haiyate**_

_Disclaimer - _**I do not own FMA or any of it's characters. :P**

_Warnings - _**None.. yet. )**

The sun cast a bronze glow on the city. They were back in Central. Being his commanding officer, Mustang had dropped the boy off at the hospital, unsure of his condition. After receiving word from the doctor, Hawkeye left with the Colonel, back to Headquarters.

"Well. Seems as though Fullmetal will get that time off he's been wanting." Mustang chimed in.

Hawkeye sighed. "To say such things, Sir. We don't even know what happened to him." Even she knew somewhere in the Colonel's mind, he was thinking of Edward. Both in a negative and positive way. He had one less pain to worry about, and one less pawn to do his bidding.

Something wet and cold was laid out on his forehead, he knew it was the nurse changing the cold pad on his forehead in hour intervals to keep any fever at bay. That wasn't what bothered him, it was actually quite soothing. The light from the window shone in painful rays of yellow and white, reaching him even through closed eyes. That was what he wished would go away. Edward pulled on the cloth so it also covered his eyes, blocking out the sun. The monitor beside him beeped along with each of his slow and steady heartbeats, he kept his mind on that, while trying to remember the day before.

His thoughts kept wandering to East City, its streets, who he was with, where he was going. Then, a bitter spark of realization hit him. _Al..?_ He only groaned what could have been made out to sound like the name of his brother. The younger Elric brother hadn't been seen since a few days ago, or before all this happened. He was getting ahead of himself, Alphonse was probably still in Central, but then why hasn't he come to check on Edward? Edward remember the last time he saw his brother. Yesterday for sure, in the morning. It was a week after he had gotten his body back..

Edward then fell into a chain reaction of memories that ripped through him, his body growing numb. As his heart rate increased, so did the beeping on the monitor next to him.

_Claws or talon-like nails ripped his shirt and chest, and a dark figure grinned as he held a struggling Alphonse in his grip._

The pounding in his chest increased..

_Another dragged him into the alley near them, unable to make out anything, including where Alphonse was dragged off to._

He just wanted to get back to reality, to feel the freezing bite of the cold pad on his face, or the light as it came in through the window shades, dissolving before it hit the floor. Although another part of him needed this. Within all this un comfort was the memory of last night.

_A stone was forced down his throat, it tasted of iron and cherries, and it filled him with a pain and power that would conflict within his body long enough for Alphonse to be long gone, and someone held him, one hand behind his neck, and another gripped his shoulder. It felt like too many people trying to grab him at once, although it was probably only one set of hands, and he was unable to move or say anything as that same being spoke to him quietly._

A long pause in the noise beside him followed, the machine itself almost sounded amused. Edward could hear a voice somewhere on the outside of his illusion, perhaps a nurse? Was something happening? He felt fine, almost.. serene. Although he was unable to feel at this point, and could overlook such a problem as his heart stopping, pausing. If that was the case, why wasn't he dead? Still, he heard that alarmed woman's voice.

_Mr. Elric?_

* * *

**Nyah Nyah Nyah **

**- Okay so this is kind of rushed, so... sorry if it kind of.. well.. sucks, and it's too short. D: I realized more than a week had gone past since my first chapter and well... I just wanted to get it out there. Next chapter will be better and up very soon! . Any delay in chapters I blame on School, writers block, or, well... WoW. :D Thanks to any of you who are keeping up with the story! 33333 -BH  
**


	3. Retrieval of the Debt

**_Driven - Black Haiyate_**

_Disclaimer -_**I do not own FMA or any of it's characters. :P**

_Warning - _**..None yet... Gah.**

**Author's thing: Uhh.. sorry it's a while between chapters.. :D;; And this one is kind of long I suppose. I tried to make it angsty yet not so dramatic that it's just.. stupid. So.. I hope I made it work. As always I thank all you guys who keep up with this rambling story and review it with such kind words! . Next chapter things will start to make sense because that's when all the real stuff basically begins, I just had to use the first two chapters as hooks/fillers. ) Well.. enjoy!  
**

_  
He hadn't forgotten the last time in his life he was so happy to hold his brother's hand. They were children, of course, and Alphonse was still in the flesh. He constantly relived that time in their lives, the good, and the bad. At the time, after that time even, he thought sealing his brother's soul into a suit of armor was selfish.. maybe even desperate. He would always think of what would have happened if he hadn't of done that, they wouldn't be here now at least. _

_Now his brother was back in the flesh, and Edward was still amazed at how they had done it. Yet there was still always a nagging thought in the back of his mind, and his brother was always preoccupied with the usual. "We need to get your body back too, brother!" He would always say. _

_They spent their time this day (Since Edward had a "day off" ) in East City, browsing different shops, just enjoying the average day. Although, there was something different about this day. Only a few people were out on the streets, and they were wrapped  
up in their own busy lives. It was growing dark however._

_"Why would you ask for_ his_ help?" The woman said as more of a demand than a question. She held her stance with a hand on one hip, and the other wrapped around her waist, standing her ground as she demanded an explanation from her "brother".  
_

_"Lust.. we have to get this kid one way or another. There was nothing else I could think of. You know_ he_ would have gone after him as well, with the help of his lackeys no less. This is the only way." Her green-haired companion replied, staring out of a window of their so-called home. _

_"He cannot be trusted."_

_"I know that, but to get what we want, we have to work with him... and what he wants."_

_Lust simply scoffed and walked off. Envy turned to watch her leave, then turned back to the window again, a dangerous smile playing on his lips._

_Edward groaned and leaned on one knee, resting his hand on his chest, fresh gashes ripped across his skin. He was in a daze to say the least, and he was now painfully aware the sun had gone down. A figure stood over him, and he was aware Alphonse was no longer by his side. Looking up, his face contorted in pain became one of an animal. "Envy." He snarled. _

_Envy cocked a smile, but didn't say anything. Something about his demeanor was horrifying. Edward knew this day would come, and he was at least glad Envy had not dragged out the anticipation much longer. He tilted his head and saw the being who had cut him down, and the same being who was now dragging away a struggling Alphonse in his grasp. Before Edward could do anything to stop him, Envy reached down and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, dragging him into the nearest alleyway to avoid any attention. _

_The pain was gone now, and Edward was relaxed, almost entranced by the sound of Envy's voice. All he felt was the brick wall against his back, Envy's hand holding the pressure points on his neck, and cold breath by his ear. _He_ spoke. "You dodged our fee last time, now it's time to pay up. I'm sure you haven't forgotten our terms. You got what you what, know we need ours."_

_Edward couldn't respond, he knew what Envy meant._

_Envy sighed, "Like always you're barely listening." He tightened his grip, "Like I said... it's time to pay up." _

_Edward panicked as something like a stone was forced into his mouth. He couldn't help but swallow it, it tasted of iron and cherries. He felt himself fall to the ground. He felt tired, and he felt relieved as he watched Envy walk away..._

"Fullmetal."

Edward blinked and turned towards the Colonel. It seemed he was lost in his own thoughts for long enough to not hear what the Colonel was telling him. "Uh.. yeah?"

The Colonel sighed. "Do you _ever_ listen?" The Colonel shook his head. Edward narrowed his eyes sympathetically, probably not. "I said... the doctors said it was a malfunction with the machine itself-" Somehow Edward refused to believe that. "-And you're okay to come back to work tomorrow, so I expect you to." The Colonel finished. Was he ever _not_ heartless?

_I still have to find Alphonse..._

That reminded him. "Colonel.. where's Al..?" He might as well be straight forward.

The Colonel shook his head. "We don't know, last time we saw him was a few days ago, with you. Although, we are looking for him." By "we" he meant basically meant the gang of officers and lieutenants close to him and his brother, and by "looking for him" he meant Alphonse was gone.

_Edward knew what he had to do. Find Alphonse and keep him safe. Then find Envy, and re-pay he debt, no matter what that may be.  
_

"_Regardless_.." The Colonel said, obviously annoyed at Edward's attempt to avert the subject. "I will see you working tomorrow, won't I?" It was more of a demand that required Edward's acknowledgement rather than a question that deserved an answer. So Edward nodded. "And I don't want you running off by yourself to find Alphonse or fight the bad guys, that will only get you in trouble. We will take care of that ourselves, got it?"

_Since when the change of heart Colonel? _Edward though sarcastically, but he nodded.

The Colonel got up from the chair next to Edward's bed and walked away, stopping short of the door, and without looking back, he spoke. "I trust you will keep yourself out of danger next time?" He didn't wait for Edward's response. The sympathy in his voice could be heard from a mile away. The door closed, Edward sighed in relief, and smiled. "Yeah yeah, Colonel Airhead."

_Like hell._

**Continued.. later. ) **


	4. Back at Headquarters

_**Driven - Black Haiyate**_

_Disclaimer - _**Same as the other chapters. :D**

_Warning - _**I'm just gonna stop doing this until there is something to warn you about. **

**Note: Ahahahaa... wow. Sorry for taking (so) long to come up with this chapter. After a while I got interested in other things but... I really want to finish it. This chapter is kind of short, and it's more filler. But don't despair, next chapter will be where the last flashback is and where the present starts. So.. I hope I haven't lost readers over this long... break, if you will. I also hope my writing skill hasn't... decreased with this particular story. x  
**

**Just a note: _Italics _are flashbacks and thoughts, it'll be obvious which are which.**

* * *

** Period before/Leads to the flashback in Ch. 3  
**

_In the small town of Dublith, deep within its un welcoming shadows (deep enough so no one would just stumble upon it), stood two men in a bar appropriately named, the Devil's Nest. _

_One was almost full beast, if not for the male human torso bent backwards over the shoulders of the otherwise bear-like figure. The bar lights glinted over the surface of his round glasses. He spoke in an almost inaudible whisper to the other man._

_"Here it is... as requested. I do hope it is in one piece.." He said, holding out a simple linen bag, which held something round and jagged. _

_The other man stood shorter than his companion, and wore clothes more than odd for the times. He grimaced, but otherwise looked satisfied. "I'd rather it be smashed into a million pieces," he said, and hooked a thumb in the direction of the bar, where a safe hung open next to the counter. "Thanks anyways, Tucker." He said, staring behind his dark glasses. _

_Tucker lumbered over to the safe, speaking as he went. "I was wondering, even hoping I could ask for something in return, Greed." He gently placed the bag in the safe, and stepped back to assure Greed he had not attempted anything, before closing it. _

_Greed lifted his head a little higher, slightly taken aback at this request. Surely, one would consider the name "Greed", before asking for anything in return for a task, but he was also curious as to what this "thing" may be. "What do you want?"  
_

_"Another test subject."_

_"What happened to the other one?"_

_Tucker hesitated. "Well... ah... something.. happened. A failed experiment." _

_He wouldn't have expected less. The "doctor" went through a lot of test subjects. _

_After a few moments, Tucker noticed the tweak in Greed's eyebrow, he wasn't convinced. _

_"Ah! Well... not to say the rats Dorochet supplies me with aren't suitable. They're just... too small." Tucker said, in an even lower tone, putting his two paw-like hands together and frowned. _

_"I see," Greed started, scratching the back of his neck and considered this for a moment. "And... what would you rather have?"_

_Again, Tucker hesitated. "Something bigger than a rat. Maybe to go as far as requesting, a human?" He bowed his head as if he felt guilty for asking._

_This wasn't an impossible task. Although it would make him a hypocrite (which was the least of his problems). After all, taking in a band of military experiments, and then giving Tucker a human to test on, wouldn't look good. Greed knew he needed followers now more than ever, but as long as he could get it past the others..._

_"We'll see. I can't exactly guarantee the others will approve."  
"Do the other's have to know?"_

_"No," Greed said airily, "I suppose not." He ended the conversation by grabbing a lighter off one of the small tables and heading outside to stand by the door, at the base of the cement stairs leading down to the shady establishment. Taking a cigarette out from his pocket, he leaned his head back against the brick wall and stared at the sky, taking deep breaths. He wondered about the other homunculi, and why they hadn't bothered him in a while. He didn't miss it, but after getting used to the threats and ambushes, he had to become wary of the sudden silence that filled each day. He was almost... bored. _

_That's when he saw her. A small, long-haired woman in a short skirt brushed past him as she attempted to enter the bar. (The small base of the stairs, just before the door, was a tight space, fortunate enough for him) He began to follow her in. The room was empty, Tucker had obviously gone back to his own business. Greed stopped in the doorway, flicking more ashes off the tip of his cigarette, watching them fall to the ground or hover in the air around the tip, and narrowed his eyes. _

_"Envy." He hissed. _

_The mysterious woman's shoulders stiffened, and she let out a glittering, malevolent laugh. Turning around, her mouth coiled into a dangerous smile. _

_"Been a while, hasn't it, Greed?" _

_-----_

The room seemed a lot smaller now than the last time he was here, but it was as he left it: books littered his desk and floor, the sheets on his bed askew. Edward stood still for a moment, looking around at the room, trying to assess what he'd been doing before he left for East City with Alphonse.

The Master Sergeant Fuery kept himself behind the open threshold of Edward's room, watching him warily. "You're.. probably wondering why the Colonel didn't escort you back personally, since he was so worried..." He started.

Edward turned his head to look at Fuery out of the corner of his eye. "The Colonel? _Worried_?"

"Yeah, he was, but he was... busy. He'll be back later today, in case there's anything you want to talk about with him." Fuery finished and turned around to leave, but hesitated, "Just relax until then." He finished, with a strained tone.

Edward watched him leave, and made sure to lock the door after he closed it. There was something he had been anxious to see since he left the hospital. Once he left the hospital and while he was escorted through the Central Headquarters to his room, people had been staring at him. He didn't know why.

Edward walked to the mirror above the small dresser, pulling off his shirt as he went. In the mirror he saw himself for the first time in days. He could barely distinguish his skin from the white bandages that covered his chest. It was too pale. He rose his gaze so he could look into the eyes of his reflection. There were dark circles under his eyes, which only emphasized the discoloration of his skin, and they had grown the slightest bit cloudy. No wonder other people were staring at him, he looked like a walking corpse.

Edward sighed and collapsed on his bed, the red haze that the window brought into the room was tiring him. Back in the hospital room, back when he was discussing the matter of his brother with the Colonel, there was a period of time in which he remembered his encounter with Envy, and possibly the reason he looked like this. What he was forced to eat, that which tasted of iron and cherries, he knew.

There were only a few hours until nightfall, only a few hours to sleep. When the sky grew black, and all the personnel had gone to their beds, Edward would escape. He would leave, and submit to this fate he saw already unfolding before his eyes.

* * *

**To be continued? Or just stop now? **


	5. Bribing Greed

_**Driven - Black Haiyate**_

**By now you should know the disclaimer! **

* * *

** Continued from last chapter's flashback  
**

_"You could always see past my disguise, right?" Envy said, walking over to one of the small bar tables to seat himself. While he did so, a soft golden light washed over his form, returning him back to his preferred appearance. _

_Greed stalled for a moment, before dropping his cigarette on the stone ground behind him, and stamping it out. Silently gloating over this small but useful victory, he walked over to the same small table and sat across from Envy. There were a few seconds of awkward silence, not uncommon between these brothers, who were feuding to say the least. _

_"So?" He pressed.  
Envy hesitated. "We've... lost our Pride."  
"Like.. metaphorically?"  
_

_Envy scoffed. "No, literally. During an out-of-district meeting, he was killed. It was poison."  
"So," Greed said excitedly "There was a flaw with the old hag's 'Perfect Homunculus" after all?"_

_"__Obviously. A very skilled alchemist must have been behind it.. Who else could tell he was a homunculus, and have access to the kind of materials needed to kill one of us without using a physical piece of our past?"_

_Greed's eyes flickered to the safe on the other side of the bar, "And, the country doesn't know?" He asked.  
"It's been kept very quiet for the past few days. After all, most of the higher officials work for us. The only others who know what he is and how he died are being kept alive. Major General Hakuro will be his successor, seeing as how he served as Lieutenant Führer while Pride was with us in Lior."_

_Greed went silent for a moment. They couldn't keep something like this hidden for too long. He also thought it was impossible to kill a homunculus unless you had their bones, or something else along those lines. And this Major General, Greed knew he has limited abilities in the office and battlefield. It could only be his unique way or following orders relentlessly even to the point of personal endangerment. Such a man could never be considered a threat to Pride. He brought himself back to the present and asked the question he was really curious about, "Do you know who the alchemist is?" _

_"We have an idea." Apparently Envy caught on to Greed's idea as well, and said nothing more.  
"And where do I fit in this?"  
"I assume you remember the deal that Fullmetal boy made with us a few months ago?" _

_Greed simply nodded. Every once in a great while, the wrong person will discover the existence of a homunculus, and in their ignorance, ask for a favor. Most of these favors have been bringing back a loved one. The homunculi are capable of doing this. The act of bringing a human back to life without proof of existence required the philosophers stone and each one of the existing homunculi in the process. Because of this, there were no deals of this sort during Greed's imprisonment and for a long time, beginning before Greed was created and continued into his life, they were unable to literally bring anyone back._

_The homunculi knew the laws of existence, and there fore could never really bring back someone who was already dead, but they were never merciful. They never informed those who proposed the deal their loved one couldn't come back human, only another homunculus would take its place. And unless that new form of life received nourishment in the form of unrefined stones, it would simple die. They would say it failed and kill whoever was left, so the deal and anyone involved would fade into the background and out of sight. There would never be any intention to help the person, it was all just a game. _

_The deal they made with Edward Elric was a different case. Since his younger brother's soul was not lost to the gate, they could easily bring back his body and fuse it with the soul. This became so urgent as of late because the soul of young Alphonse was fading fast, and Edward caved in to the idea of seeking help within the homunculi. Needless to say, the others were eager to oblige, expecting something in return. Like, the Philosophers Stone. Whether they sought to receive it then or wait and let become comfortable, Greed didn't know. _

_Greed was there, though, since he had no excuse not to be. It was the first since he escaped the fifth laboratory. After that, Greed and the brothers fled from sight, though they were not connected or helping each other in any way, they wanted to make a break to return to their own lives. From then, Envy was the only one who knew of the Devil's Nest and its connection to Greed. Assuming Dante and the others wanted to incarcerate him once again, it could be supposed that Envy only kept quiet about him for times like these. These rare times when he needed something from Greed. _

_This was about as much as he came up within the several months he was held up in the Devil's Nest. The rest was lost to him. _

_"The boy never gave us anything in return. So we must take it from him. I need you to be there to separate the brother from Fullmetal. Do with him what you want." Envy added a little to his knowledge.  
"When?"  
"Tomorrow. East City." Envy got up from the table, intending to leave._

_Greed waited, letting the moment pass, before throwing in his own blunt catch. "What makes you think I'd help?" Honestly, he was curious._

_Envy ignored him and continued to the door leading back outside. The same golden light washed over him and he returned to the form of a young woman. This time, Greed followed without the usual predatory saunter, but follow he did. Envy wouldn't leave without throwing back some witty remark. Greed followed him outside and watched him walk up the steps, bend over to pick something up hidden by the right corner, and turn around with a smirk, said object hidden behind his back. _

_"Somehow, I think this would appeal to you, Greed." And with that, a small linen bag was thrust in his direction. Catching it, he felt the soft grinding of the stones inside shifting around. Greed wrapped his fingers around it rapaciously and looked up. Envy was gone. Knowing there was no one but him and Tucker left in the Devil's Nest, he yelled over his shoulder, "Hey Tucker! I think I have a solution to your problem."_

_A smile crawled over his features and he tossed the pouch from one hand to the other gleefully before heading back into the bar, laughing quietly to himself._

**(Last flashback for a while... I'm sick of these things. :3)**_  
_

* * *

"Sir! It's about Fullmetal." Hawkeye stood at attention in front of Colonel's desk.He groaned. "Lie to me."  
"Sir?" 

Taking the hand away from his exhaustion stricken face, he looked as though repeating himself about such a subject might kill him. "_Lie _to me, whatever it is."

She understood, though she did not condone. "Yes, Sir. Fullmetal is safe in his quarters as we speak." Hawkeye said with a faint smile.  
Mustang swore under his breath, stood, and made his way to the dorm of Edward Elric, Hawkeye following close behind. When he opened the door, something immediately caught his eye. It was the sun reflecting off of something small and round, left on the pillow of this room's bed. He walked over, picked it up, and opened it. A small folded piece of paper lay on the surface of the watch. He unfolded it, expecting the worst and most obscure.

_Don't follow me._

Well damn it all if Edward wasn't _completely_ predictable.

* * *

"Ticket, please." 

Edward dug in his pocket and held out the ticket without turning to face the Conductor. It was odd enough he was riding to an uncertain destination, there was no need to draw attention to himself by showing off his sleep-deprived looks. The Conductor mumbled something Edward could not hear and handed the ticket back to the teen.

He was glad to be left alone. Although he did sleep before he left Central, it wasn't more than a few hours, plus the restless nights in the hospital, it wasn't enough to leave him in good spirits. It was a little into morning now, and he let the feverish glow of the sunrise lull him into sleep.

By the time he woke up, the sun was above the train, and he felt much better. Looking down, he realized he was still holding the ticket, and made to place it back in his pocket, but his fingers grazed another note. Taking it out and opening it up, he saw something he might have seen hours ago if he was paying attention.

_Ride the train to Dublith._

It was too ominous to take seriously. Edward stuffed it back in his pocket and rested his head on the cold steel side of the train, hoping to sleep a little more. Besides, he had no idea where he was, and at the moment he didn't care, he would retrace his steps and start again on this "journey" when he woke up again. The only other time he moved was to grab a small roll from the lunch cart that passed occasionally. He noticed his appetite had decreased considerably, so he nibbled on the roll while he watched the outside scenery deny change with every mile the train traveled. He couldn't stop worrying about his brother.

Eventually the Conductor approached him again, though Edward didn't know why. The man leaned down to say something quietly, but seized the front of Edward's shirt instead and pulled him close. "This is your stop." He hissed.

Edward saw the man's eyes flash a brilliant violet and his heart sank. _Oh, great._

Without care of the questioning and shocked looks from the other passengers, the Conductor, of whom Edward had already guessed the true identity of, dragged the teen down the hall and to one of the few side doors. Edward was picked up off his feet and thrown _off of the train._ Before his mind could register what had just happened, he realized he was falling to the ground rushing by below him, _fast._

**Author's Notes: I've finally got the plot figured out, and I'll try and get it out of my head and onto this screen so it makes sense.. hah. Anyways, yeah, guh.. time to get to sleep. As always, please review! I'll make sure to pay more attention to my readers/reviewers as well, since it's because of you all that this was/still is possible:3  
BTW: Actually, I'm sending a special thanks to Monkey Mist Robo for the caps on that last review. It really helped me write this one! XDD (Though I thank everyone who's stuck with me, and I'll correctly thanks those people next chapter.) **

**As always, Enjoy!  
**


	6. A Stupid Mistake

**Oh wow... oh... wow. So, in my time, 2 days means.. a week and a half. Yeah.. I don't have an excuse for this... XD**

**Anyways, after this chapter, there's one more until the story really begins. Like, it's not even close to ending, I have a lot planned, and I'm really proud of this work. XD I hope some people would agree. It took all that I had in me to actually write this before I passed out at the keyboard. **

**There'll be warnings in later chapters. I'm putting no romance in this story... so the worst that's gonna happen is violence and, well, you'll see. **

**As always, please please _please_ comment. Be truthful, if it sucks, say it sucks, if it's good (Oh please be good), say it's good. Criticism is always welcome.. since I know I'm always using _something_ wrong. So.. yeah. Enjoy!**

* * *

_Ugh..._

Edward groaned as his senses returned to him and his mind registered what had just happened. He was thrown off a train? And he was alright? He moved his fingers, they were fine. His arms? Fine. His legs? Fine. Had he become numb from the fall and there fore couldn't feel, say, a protruding limb or shattered bone? He waited a minute before pushing himself up with his arms and sliding his legs foreward to support himself the rest of the way.

"Huh..." He almost sounded impressed. Looking down at his hands, he noticed nothing but some friction burns from the ground. Resting on the conclusion that he was alright, Edward brushed off the front of his shirt and pants and turned to walk off, though someone was already there.

"About time you woke up. You humans are so soft." A voice said.

Edward turned to where he heard the voice and saw the Conductor.

"You know, you can take off that get-up now, you're not fooling anyone." He said, and brushed off his sleeve as a distraction.

A wave of golden light returned Envy to his original form as he turned to smirk at the teen. At this moment Edward realized he was talking casually to he who may be his _only_ arch enemy and held up his arms in a defensive stance. He hoped Envy wouldn't choose to fight, because he felt bad enough from the fall, he knew if he had to fight, he would lose. Instead, Envy quirked an eyebrow and walked away.

"Hey.. Hey!" Edward yelled and ran after Envy, stumbling to a slower pace once he had caught up. The weirdest thing wasn't that he was thrown off a moving train, not even the fact that he had survived virtually without a scratch. What was weird was the fact that Envy hadn't tried to kill him, even though he had plenty of chances. "What're you playing at?"

Envy turned his head around to glance at Edward casually and said, "Aren't you wondering why you're still able to walk?" Implying that even if the fall hadn't stopped him, Envy would have.

"I guess-"  
"And why you look like a walking corpse?" He almost sounded irritated.

"Yeah, and you're the reason for it." He answered quickly, expecting Envy to react, but he didn't falter.

"That's right."

Edward was the one who stopped. He hadn't expected that answer. He looked down at his hands again, only shadows of the burns were there now. Had he recovered in such a short amount of time? _How.._

Edward noticed Envy had stopped and looked back impatiently, waiting for Edward to catch up.

"What's going on?"

"You never repaid us willingly for bringing back that tin can of a brother of yours. So, we'll take it by force."  
"Take what?" Edward asked hesitantly.

"Your life, of course."

So that was it.. Edward submit his life to that of a demon and his brother lives. There must be a loophole, a catch, anything. "Do you have Alphonse?"

Envy didn't bother lying. "No, I don't. Someone else took him while I fed you the stone." Edward reflected upon this and ran a hand over the bandages on his chest. That's right, whoever gave him these wounds also had Alphonse.

As every step took him closer to what might be the end of his life, he considered running. He could run, but he couldn't fight, not like this. Where would he go? Back to Central, where he would face Colonel Airhead's wrath? Not a chance.. besides, there was way too much going on here to just leave behind for his own fears. He felt this time it wasn't just about repayment, or even the stone. No... Envy wanted more. And to turn Edward into an amnesia-stricken lapdog would be the perfect way to take advantage. He decided to take a chance. "What if I run?" Blunt, but honest.

Not to Edward's surprise, Envy laughed fullheartedly. "Even if you ran, eventually you'd die. Why not just spare your pride and give up willingly? Instead of making us go fetch you. No.. that's for the military dogs." He laughed again. Another chill ran down Edward's spine.

They walked in silence for what seemed like several minutes and it wasn't long before the border of a forest came into view. Edward recognized it as the deep woods that overlooked the valley in which Dublith lay. He remembered his teacher speaking to him of a person who lived in this forest, someone close to her. Somehow he felt he was about to meet his teacher's mentor, someone she rarely spoke of.

A knot of doubt formed in his stomach as he followed Envy silently into an opening to the forest. It was a small passageway, several feet in width and a person could still see the sky through the gaps in the forest's thick roof. It looked as though it went on for miles, deep into the forest and far away from anything. Edward looked around. To his left were smaller plains bordered by the forest on one side and eventually the railroad on the other. To his right a few paces would be what looked like a sheer cliff, which he assumed would transition into a smoother ridge further into the forest or along the valley shoulder.

It was several minutes of walking in this forest tunnel before it opened up into a clearing. Among it was a dilapidated, cylindrical home, and a few more paces from that, a large pond. Edward's eyes focused on the other side of this clearing, behind the house, on something large. Very large. There was a massive cement building hidden within the trees, half built into the ground. It was a replica of the 5th laboratory. The 6th, maybe?

Envy had been walking ahead of Edward until now. Once he realized the boy had stopped to gawk at their destination, Envy planted a shove with his foot square in Edward's back to keep him moving. The others were gone. Sloth, gone to patch things up at the military headquarters, would request a few days off in order to "get over the Führer's death" and come back here; Wrath was off somewhere playing in the forest most likely; Lust was off doing who knows what, Gluttony not far behind, and Greed was, well, where he always was, lording over the lower district of Dublith. That left Pride dead, for now, and Envy with the kid.

They continued past the house and the pond, Edward's legs began to feel like lead, every step more difficult than the last. What waited for him in this laboratory? Why was he even going along with this? Maybe this was another symptom of the stone, persuasion, but he still felt he had to continue on. If it wasn't pure curiosty, then it was his superstitious fear that something _would_ happen to Alphonse if he didn't see what Envy had to require as payment. This was all so stupid, so foolish, what was he doing? Yet he still followed.

As they got closer to the entrance, Edward noticed other people. Guards were stationed at the entrance, one on each side of the large, wide, steel double doors. These two were clad in black, thick ballistic vests hung over their wide chests, and they stared ahead, silent and still, hidden behind dark goggles. Everything about them was big and intimidating, even more so with the rifle planted across one's chest, two smaller handguns at the other's sides. Edward was bitterly reminded of Hawkeye, whom was one of the people he was leaving behind. Onto another defensive habit, he wondered if he could take them, and looked at one of them out of the corner of his eye, but was not returned with the same gesture.

The inside was like the 5th laboratory. Stone halls filed in every direction, with rooms used and unused, both of which Edward had no particular interest in. If this laboratory needed guards outside (and inside, Edward now saw), there must have been more than what these grey walls and closed doors suggested. After he and Envy had rounded a few corners, walked down a few flights of stairs, and tripped over one or two cracks in the floor, they came upon an enclosed cloister, accessible from all sides by hallways that joined one another.

Each corner of this cloister was filled with tables and lab equipment with people cluttered around them. These "scientists" wore black clothing with the regulatory white lab coat, but each one also sported a soft elastic mask that clung to their faces from the bridge of their noses down to their shoulders. Edward now saw why, visible fumes rose from numerous vials. He covered his mouth with the sleeve of his cloak as he felt his stomach turn. In the middle of this room was a glowing transmutation circle, small enough to give the scientists room to move around it, but large enough to fit the winged heap that was barely moving within it. It was a man, looked no younger than 20, dark skin and blonde hair, with white _wings_.

"No way.." Edward breathed.

"Surprised?" Envy was beside him now, waiting while Edward watched.  
"What is it?" Despite himself, he referred to the man as an object.

Envy reply was cut short by a groan. A low, agonizing groan that seemed to dwarf the other sounds in the room. Edward rushed to one of the pillars bordering the room and looked around it, keeping both hands planted on the cold stone surface. One of the scientists took off his gloves and kneeled down to place his hands on the circle. The other 'white coats' stopped what they were doing to turn and watch, eyes fixed on the man or their notebooks. The lines of the circle lit up and surrounded the man with yellow light. He opened his eyes, and now Edward saw they were a striking shade of red. An Ishbalan?

Nothing happened. Edward wanted to see for himself if the wings were real, feel the feathers against his fingers. The urge was weird, to feel something so similar to that which would fly away before you could get close. Those red eyes looked around and focused on Edward's indifference face. They changed as he realized Edward was just another person, not one of the homunculi or scientists, widened in confusion as if to question his shame, wonder if the boy even saw him there. As he ripped his gaze from Edward and closed his eyes, he made a move to roll his shoulders, but grounded his wings into the floor instead and hissed in pain.

Edward stepped foreward, but Envy placed a hand on his shoulder and forcefully pulled him backwards. He looked back, alarmed.

"It's just a little experiment. It's not going well with this one.. but," Envy hesitated, his eyes glazing over as he observed the scientists. He leaned in, close enough to whisper in the boy's ear. "We think it'll go better with you." Edward's heart skipped a beat and he had no time to react. Something blunt struck him in the back of his head and he felt himself falling, too fast to catch himself and too sluggish to move at all. As he slipped into darkness, he was already cursing himself for following Envy and he heard someone speak to him softly. He heard, "Three days, pipsqueak."

_Three days..._

* * *

**And for the question: "Continued?" **

**I swear I'll try and get the next chapter in as soon as I can. But now... time for me to sleep. **


	7. 3 Days & Temporary Insanity

**This one took a little more time to type. XD And I think it's my longest chapter yet. So.. I hope I didn't lose any readers with this little.. gap in between updates. **

**I also wanted time to think up other fanficts. ;D  
Warnings:... You'll see.  
Disclaimer: Same as always.**

**As always, enjoy! **

* * *

Edward awoke on something soft, though it was the only comfort he felt. At least, he thought he was awake. He felt pain, but his dreams and nightmares almost always had a way of seeming real. He might have pinched himself to see if he was really awake, but there was a throbbing on the back of his skull he wanted to examine first, more than likely from the concussion given to him by Envy. With a rustle of chains, Edward attempted to raise his hand, but came up short. 

It was silent, _so _silent. The only thing he heard was his own breathing, which was soft and strained, and the noise of the chain. It was very dark too, so he couldn't see where he was exactly, but it was cold, and the echo of his breathing off the walls made him think they were metal. He concluded that he was still in the laboratory. His metal limbs creaked with lack of maintenance.

He pulled weakly on the chains binding his wrists and ankles to the soft surface. It was too dark to see how tightly he was bound or how he could possibly get out. Then... for some reason.. he began to laugh. This was too perfect. What started all of this was his carelessness of getting caught in an alley with Envy. Not really caught but.. letting his guard down long enough for Envy to get ahold of him, someone else to swipe Alphonse, and then following some vague advice on a note, which led him back to Envy and into this hell hole. His stupidity was laughable. There hadn't been another time where he had dug his own grave so deep he couldn't get out of it.

As he bordered a hysterical laughing fit, the door to the room opened and Envy walked in carrying a metal cup atop a small tray. Edward stopped laughing and felt his body stiffen with unsatisfied violent tendencies. Oh, how hard he would slam Envy, if only he could move.

Without a word, Envy set down the tray and took out a key. He unlocked Edward's left wrist and held out the cup. It was cold, but it reeked of copper. Envy was watching him closely, yet seemed distracted. Edward took this chance and flung the cup in Envy's direction. His aim was off and Envy easily stepped to the side, letting the cup crash into the wall, spraying water over the floor.

There was an uncomfortable silence and Envy shrugged. He walked over and locked Edward's wrist back into place, without much resistance. "Too bad, Fullmetal. That's the only water you're getting until tomorrow." He said calmly. The door shut and the room was once again shrouded in darkness. Edward scowled and scoffed. A mixture of anger and unconcern raged through him.

After the mistakes and the detours and the chains and the weakness and the throbbing headache he had now, what would be the one thing to drive him over the edge before these three days were over? His nose began to itch...

* * *

"Ooooooh..." He groaned as he tried to sit up. He tried, and found that he was numb from the neck down. Alarmed, he looked around, tried to focus his eyesight, tried to hear anything. There were cages around him, various chimera housed them, from birds to dogs to kinds he couldn't even identify were staring and snapping at him from behind the bars. From there he could tell he was in the center of the room, laying on some uncomfortable table, unable to move. Something told him he was in a bad position. 

He heard lumbering footsteps to his left and looked.

"Tucker..."  
"It's been a while, Alphonse." He greeted, the size of his form made up the soft whisper that was his voice.

Alphonse swallowed hard and looked around again. "Where am I? Why can't I move?"

"That's not important now. Just relax." Tucker responded, turning around from a table with a small syringe in his hand. Alphonse began to panic, all attempts to move were in vain.

Tucker hovered over the boy, syringe in hand and poised to prick, but another figured entered the room, one who caused Tucker to flinch and look up.

He leaned against the door framed, arms crossed and eyes hidden behind those odd round glasses. Alphonse remembered him from his life in a suit of armor. "Change of plans, Tucker. We're letting him loose." He said.

Alphonse looked up. Although not completely happy with seeing this homunculus, a wave of relief overcame him when he heard those words. He hoped for an explanation to why he was here in the first place, or where his brother was. "..What?" He said. Hopefully, his questions would be answered.

"Right, I guess I should explain. I was _hired_ to kidnap you." Greed said, then pushed himself off of the door frame. "So I took you and brought you back here. No worries though, the only thing we took was a small amount of your blood," He held up a small vial with red liquid. "But, now you're free to go." He slipped the vial back into his pocket and walked over to the small table.

Tucker had backed into the shadows by this point and Alphonse made himself calm down, so he laid his head back down on the table and closed his eyes, only concentrating on his deep breaths. He heard footsteps and felt his arm jerked away from him, but he kept breathing. He felt a small prick under his elbow and then heat ran through his veins, but he kept breathing. Within a few seconds, he could move his fingers, he could move his legs and feet. He stopped breathing for a moment to roll off of the table and stumble to the door, clinging to the frame, while Greed raised the syringe to his eyes and mumbled. "Not bad..."

"So.. what's going on?" Alphonse asked as he clutched the door frame.

Greed lowered the syringe back onto the table and shrugged. "Like I said, I was hired to catch you, as sort of a... distraction."  
"By who?"  
"_Envy_." He smirked. "Might as well tell you now, he has your brother. Can't say much more than that, but.. I'd say that's a bigger deal than how I'm involved in all this."  
"Right." Alphonse muttered and turned to leave, if there was any chance to get out of here, he should take it.

"Hey."  
Alphonse looked back.  
"Go back to the military. It's your best bet."  
Where else could he go?

Alphonse shifted uncomfortably, "Right." He said quietly, ran out and up the stairs to the main bar room.

Greed considered for a moment whether it was wise to let Alphonse go, let alone tell him about Envy. Tucker came into the room, head bowed and mirrored Greed's doubt, "Are you sure that was wise?" He asked.

Greed didn't respond, he was too distracted by the chimera in he cages. They watched him, snarling and snapping, drooling and bleeding, hissing and flinching. "Why do you keep these things around?" He asked.

Tucker took notice to them as well, "If they haven't died yet, then I'm doing something right." He smirked self-approvingly. There might have been more meaning to that, but Greed shook it off.

"I should charge you for keeping these here..." Greed mumbled and made his exit, leaving a discouraged Tucker behind to continue with whatever experiments kept those chimera alive. Perhaps he should have queried more about the chimera, perhaps he should have just given the Elric boy to the doctor, or he should have rejected Envy's request and fled again. But, he was Greed. What did he care? There was still so much time left in this life and he would spend every day indulging in the pleasures of a human life.

* * *

Day two. At least he thought it was. He considered a new day to be each time he woke up. This time, when he opened his eyes, it didn't seem as dark and he felt better physically. For hours now he'd been trying to come up with a plan to get out of the laboratory, working off of pure euphoria. It seemed as though this odd surge of confidence couldn't be extinguished even by the visit from Envy, with more water. Though it still tasted of copper, it was easier for Edward to swallow now that he had a reason to live. 

Envy walked out without a word, leaving Edward to mull over his thoughts until the next day, the last day.

* * *

Roy Mustang walked down the hall of central headquarters, headed to the cafeteria. He hadn't eaten in 2 days and was thoughtfully reminded by Hawkeye only an hour ago. All this worry over the disappearance of the Elric brothers had him running around ragged.. and drinking more than usual. Lack of sleep gave him dark shadows under his eyes and his posture left something to be desired. Not to mention the communal disapproval of the new Führer had himself and his subordinates walking around on egg shells since King Bradley's funeral, which was only the day before. As long as they wanted to keep it a secret, it would have slipped out eventually. Mustang himself couldn't say he was disappointed by the Führer's passing. 

Other soldiers gave him fleeting glances as he passed them. His outward appearance must have unnerved them, since Mustang was one to stay calm and collective during critical situations.

Mustang was almost excited to return to the loud activity of the cafeteria, one of the only places where personnel of any rank got together to catch up on personal news. The case was different with him, everyone in his circle already knew why he was on edge, and had no intention of talking to him about it. This trip was merely because he needed to eat something, lest his performance suffer.

Hawkeye met him at the end of one table, the others no where to be seen. She had been working with him on the Elrics' case. He was too distracted to talk or eat much. Along with the boy, he had something else to worry about. There was talk of possible bail for Zolf J. Kimbley, the infamous war criminal. How he had any possible reason for bail, he didn't know, but he knew Lieutenant Colonel Archer had something to do with it.

He hadn't eaten much, but enough to get through the day and made his way to the door. A commotion behind him caused him to look back. There was a small attached balcony on the other side of the cafeteria, constructed for announcements by high ranking officers, and on it, stood the Führer, Julia Douglas at his side. He had the same look of undisguised absence of mind per usual. No doubt Julia was giving orders while Hakuro was there for show.

Something about the surge in Lior being reinstated and pressed made those who were not already looking turn and stare. _Lior? Weren't we finished there?_

There were many concerned gasps and murmurs among the crowd, to which the Führer met with a raised hand of dismissal and walked out the door behind him, closely followed by Colonel Douglas, who threw a careful glance back at their audience.

"How interesting," A calm voice said behind him, "and I don't mean the fact that you're out of your office at such an early hour, Colonel Mustang."  
Mustang turned around, a little less than friendly. "Hello, _Lieutenant_ Colonel."  
Archer smiled. "But, what's more interesting, is that the Führer would implement such a plan this early into his service, don't you think?"  
"I guess it's not up to us to decide what's interesting or not when it comes to such things."  
"Surely a man of your rank would know _something _about it, am I wrong?"

He _was_ wrong. Mustang had been too worried over the boys for the past few days to receive any notice from the higher officers, as few as there were around Central.

Archer walked away with a salute, but not another word was spoken between the two of them. Hawkeye cast a worried glance at her superior, his breaking point was not far off.

* * *

Far different from the last two days, this last day Edward was at his worst. He stared at the ceiling and let his mind wander where ever it wanted to. When he wasn't lost in reminiscence of what he _hadn't_ done right in his short life, he was thinking of what would lay ahead for him, because there was no getting around the fact that he was going to die. 

He heard voices outside of the door, but he was too tired to focus on the words. Though the voice of another person was a little comforting.

"He's beginning to break."  
"I'd say he's already broken."  
"You never know with these humans, they can be deceiving."  
"I'm surprised you know so much."  
"I'm surprised you know so little, considering you're around those hopeless mortals all day and night."  
"I know more than you think, Envy." Sloth quipped.  
"Perhaps. By the way, how'd you get away from _work_?" Envy asked, putting a verbal emphasis on the human characteristic.  
"I did what you said, Envy. Asked for a temporary leave to console myself over the Führer's death."  
"With a reaction like that, you don't think anyone will suspect a relationship between the two of you?"  
"You mean a human relationship? Never. Besides, it's not an inconvenience. As clueless as Hakuro is, he's under our control now, and completely loyal. He can fend for himself for a few days."

Envy shrugged and took his leave down the hall, his cool voice following. "You can take him his water."  
Sloth sighed, and picked up the cup on the floor by her feet, leaving the tray, and opened the door she was facing.

Edward didn't bother to turn and look. He assumed it was Envy again. But, when someone took his hand, he knew it was not the hand of Envy's, and thinking otherwise might have unnerved him. The skin was cold to the touch, but it was gentle and motherly.  
Sloth wasn't sure why she felt she needed to comfort the human by taking his hand, but it was a desire that she couldn't shake off.  
After a few moments she placed the cup by his bedside and left after watching the teen close his eyes and settle into a last, difficult rest.

Envy had come back and was waiting for her outside of the door.  
"He is ready."

* * *

Edward was jerked out of his restless sleep by hands unlocking the chains on his ankles and wrists and pulling him into a sitting position. Their speech was rushed and Edward could not understand what they were saying through his mid-dream haze. The men held him under his arms and dragged him out of the room and down the hall none too carefully. Edward looked up once through his throbbing headache and saw the face masks of the scientists he saw a few days ago. 

They let their hands slide from his arms to his wrists and they gently lowered him onto the ground. He looked around, he was on the transmutation circle he saw a few days ago and instinctively looked for that winged man. He saw no one but the scientists and a few of the homunculi, whom he had only just noticed. Instead of panicking, like he would usually do, he closed his eyes and relaxed. There wasn't much he could do but stay still and hope for less than what the winged man received.

"So.. pip squeak..." Edward opened his eyes and looked at Envy, who had knelt beside him and lowered his voice to a whisper. "It's all I've wanted for some time now, to watch you suffer as I've suffered for _four hundred years_." His voice was venomous and strained.

"I suppose it's what I would've wanted too." Edward said quietly, but by the look of Envy, he heard it perfectly.

He heard a scowl from Envy and the words, "Just get it over with." As he watched Envy walk back to the homunculi.

Edward saw the blue tint of the circle under him. Then pain, a kind of pain he couldn't pinpoint, or begin to feel. He heard a scream so intense he wasn't sure if it was him or someone else. His skin burned, his blood thinned, and his heart made every attempt to beat out of his chest. It was a pain that dwarfed the pain he felt when he attempted to bring his mother back and then he knew what he had put her through, and what all the homunculi had been through. Though it wasn't fair retribution, Edward understood. After what seemed like several long, painful minutes, the pain segued to relief and he felt like he could finally breathe that last breath he'd been holding in for the longest time. He finally felt like he could sleep undisturbed, or close to it.

* * *

As Alphonse ran through the halls of Central Headquarters, he was silently grateful he remembered where the Colonel's office was. If he hadn't, he'd be running around the building, trailed by the same guards, only he'd have no known destination. After a day of traveling from the Devil's Nest back to Central Headquarters, the last thing he wanted was to be thrown out of the building. The guards caught up to him as he burst through the doors to what he hoped was Colonel Mustang's office. The raven haired man jumped from his chair, quite distressed by the sudden intrusion. 

"Alphonse!" He yelled over the commotion of the teen and the two guards, fighting to pull him back from the doors. The three of them looked up.

Alphonse's eyes were beginning to water from a painful jab to the chest and he spoke past the breathlessness, "Where's my brother?"

* * *

_** The 3 symptoms of temporary insanity: Amusement, confidence, and hopelessness. All within a few days... **_

**Please review! 8D  
**

**-Black Haiyate**


	8. After Introductions

**Blah blah blah. D**

**Thanks to everyone for sticking with this story! X3**

**And... sorry this one is kind of short. **

* * *

Some people create and some destroy. Many have questioned this in the past and pondered whether a person could be both. Those are true Alchemists. They live, breathe, love science and the known. They work to create a system within themselves of destroying then recreating to make it better, to improve it. Those who only destroy are often overlooked or given a reason to continue that incomplete cycle. Those who only create do not exist.

_The closest to those whom could create out of nothing is he who is called "God" by some. _

This is what Roy Mustang had always believed. He still did, but he questioned it more these days.

Mustang pulled himself back to the present and addressed Alphonse, who was seated on the small couch of his office. "So... you don't know where he is?" The boy asked.

"Right now I'm more interested in where you've been."

Alphonse thought for a moment. It had been a day since he left the Devil's Nest. Other than fear and confusion, he hadn't experienced anything note worthy. Greed had little to no moral fiber, but he was far different than the other homunculi. What would be better in the long run? For the military to storm the tavern? Would the Colonel even resort to such a thing? No... if his brother was missing, then chances are the homunculi had something to do with it, and if Greed is connected, Alphonse had to wait and watch what happens.

"I'm not sure, but I promise I didn't do anything stupid." He hoped that this childish tactic of promising such a thing was a good enough excuse. He looked the Colonel in the eyes, something he trained himself to do long before he was returned to his body.

Mustang studied Alphonse for a moment, then turned back to the window from where he stood behind his desk. "Fine."

Alphonse breathed a quiet sigh of relief before the Colonel spoke again. "As for your brother, I don't know. He ran off somewhere early in the morning a few days ago, to find you probably."

"Oh..." He replied guiltily. Alphonse thought back to his brief conversation with Greed. If Envy had his brother, all he had to do was find Envy, but then what? And why had Greed let him go so easily? Was he giving Alphonse a chance to save his brother? Alphonse doubted Greed even cared in such things, unless he was getting something out of it.

"We'll find him. We have to." Mustang said quietly, almost to himself.

As much as he tried to convince himself that he wasn't in complete control of anyone else's fate, including his, he vowed to prevent another death of his subordinates because of his carelessness.

* * *

Pride opened his eyes to an unfamiliar white ceiling. Sitting up, he looked out the window on the wall directly to the right of him, so close he reached out and touched the glass, warmed by the morning sun. There wasn't much to see, just trees, a small pond, not much else. He looked down at his hands, pale and somewhat small, then ran his fingers through his hair, long and blond. He was unsure of where he was, but he was sure of what he was: a homunculus of his creator's pride. It wasn't something you could just overlook.

He walked down the small flight of stairs leading to the ground floor of the house. Another met him in the kitchen. He was a young man in little clothing, identical to what Pride was wearing. "Oh, great. You're awake."

Pride nodded, hesitant to speak. Envy arched an eyebrow and shrugged, leaning back against the wall. Shoes clicked on the floor behind Pride and he saw Envy shift uncomfortably.

"Pride..." A soft, female voice said. Pride turned to see a black haired woman with outstretched arms, smiling distantly, and grabbed his hands. "I've waited for you, my most _perfect son_." He almost recoiled at the frozen touch of her skin and the equal amount of appealing ice in her voice.

"_Envy_." She snapped, her mood changing completely in an instant, eyes narrowed in cruel concentration. "Get the others."

Envy walked out of the room, looking back to throw a venomous glare at Pride, unseen by the woman. "Come here, come here." She said softly and pulled Pride to a seat by the wall sized window. "I'm Dante." She said and guided his hand to her chest, as if pointing to herself. By her name and behavior, he recognized her as his creator.

There was a shuffling back in the doorway and Pride looked over, surprised to see Envy had returned, flanked by four others. Two slender dark-haired women in long dresses, a bigger, much bigger man who looked as though he had as much charisma as a raisin, and a smaller boy who clung to one of the women like a child. That woman looked at Pride with restrained affection.

Envy took his spot next to Pride, pointing at each of the homunculi as he introduced them.

"She," Pointing to the more seductive of the two women, "is Lust."  
"Gluttony." He said, pointing to the large man. Pride could have guessed as much.

"Wrath and Sloth." He said finally, pointing first to the small boy, then to the woman he clung to. He didn't bother introducing himself or introducing Pride to the others, assuming they already knew who he was.

"Welcome, Pride." Lust said. Wrath tugged on Sloth's dress, she nodded and took the boy out of the room. Envy looked back at Dante, who caught his eye and nodded. Pride felt uneasy, as if he were the center of some joke everyone knew but him. He quickly became paranoid.

"Come on." Envy said irritably, pulling Pride by the arm out of the room. "Now that the introductions are done, we have an assignment for you."  
"Assignment..?" Pride asked quietly.  
"Yeah... think of it as.. a test."

"You think he's prepared for this?" Lust asked Dante, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at the spot where Envy stood seconds ago.

"This? _This_ is not something you can prepare for. It's something you do," Dante said, Lust watched her uneasily. "As for if he can do it, that's what the assignment is for. If he fails... then..." She trailed off, looking out the window at leafless trees that refused to move in the approaching winter wind. _We know we have another Greed. _

Envy had taken Pride to a room upstairs, with two curtain-drawn windows, a couch and rectangular table. Papers were spread out on the table and floor, a few looked like maps. Envy and Pride took their seats on the couch. Envy leaned forward and shifted through the papers, pulling one after another to hand to Pride. He looked over the papers: A map of some military building in Central; locations and specific dates of some man named Roy Mustang, along with a personal file with his rank, brief history, etc. Everything about a man he had never heard of was in his hands. Pride looked up at Envy questioningly.

Envy met his gaze, then slipped a piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolded it and held it in front of Pride's face. There was a picture of a man with black hair and intense dark eyes. He wore a subtle arrogant smile that left Pride with a feeling of hollow nostalgia, though he wasn't sure where it came from.

"Your assignment..." Envy said, pointing to the picture, "Is to kill this man, by any means. But, that shouldn't be any problem for Dante's _most perfect_ son, right?"

* * *

**-Cheer-**

**As always, please review. Like, also, if you see any mistakes, whether it's in my own story's authentication or if it's a problem with grammar (I know I have a problem with my semicolons... ), or if you have any questions about something that has already happened, feel free to confront/fix/ask? XD **

** Yeah.. until next chapter!  
**


	9. Mission

Soooooo happy to finally get this on here.

Took too long.

Enjoy. XD

* * *

_By any means..._

Did that mean it would be a hard task?

Pride shook his head, clearing thoughts of such things. There was a task at hand and he needed to focus on it. He was experiencing the first of what would be many moments where he was so grateful for the body he was given. It was short, but that wasn't such a bad thing. It was slim, yet muscular, and easy to move. This would be simple.

It was dark, about 1:30 in the morning. A time when most personnel wouldn't be out walking around. Envy gave Pride the assigned time, saying this night the Colonel would be hastily going through long-past-due paperwork in enough time to still get some rest. Envy wanted to make sure he found none this night.

Pride stuck to western side of the short wall that surrounded the main building, which was decorative more than protective. Looking around the corner, he noticed he was only a few paces from the guards that stood watch at the front gate, which almost always remained open. The two guards looked relaxed, exchanging small talk as they allowed their rifles to fall slack at their sides. They would not be prepared.

He turned back from the corner and fell against the wall; digging in his pockets for the things he was given. He heard Envy's instructions in his head.

Chloroform; _Pour some of this on that cloth and they'll be out like a light within a few seconds of inhaling it._

Pride set that on the cement next to him, along with the cloth it was wrapped in.

A knife; _you're different from Wrath in the sense that your alchemy is more destructive. You could stop that man's heart just by laying a finger on his chest, but wouldn't you rather drag this blade across his throat yourself?_

Pride stared at the knife reluctantly for several moments before sliding it back into its sheath and fitting it back into his belt. He didn't need that yet. Instead, he picked up the dark bottle, twisted off the cap, poured some of the clear liquid onto the cloth, replaced the cap, and carefully placed it back into his pocket. He had to work fast, before the liquid dried.

Looking around the corner again, he noticed that one of the two guards stood under a streetlamp, while the other was shrouded in darkness. Pride kept low to the ground, his bare feet making not a sound on the concrete. He hoped a stretching muscle or creaking joint wouldn't betray him, though it was safe to say they might not hear it over their own conversation. There was no breath in his lungs to cut through the silence and his clothes refrained from stretching noisily as he reached out for the first guard, his hand clamping over the man's mouth.

_Shh._ He willed his victim to stay quiet, though not as reliable as a knife to the back, the man tried to yell through the cloth as his consciousness slipped. Pride caught him and laid him on the ground. He edged away from the body as the second guard took a few nervous steps to the darkness where his friend lay.

"Warren? Hey… Warren?" He said, now out of the safety of the light, he reached a hand out to where the muffled sounds had come from. Pride grabbed his arm and pulled him down, thrusting a knee into his chest, making him drop his rifle completely. The sound of a gunshot would have most certainly given Pride trouble. While the man suffered from lack of breath, Pride reached back and grabbed the cloth, holding it against his mouth, making sure his first breath would be full of the chemical. And with that, both guards were unconscious, propped against the wall in the shadows.

Pride stood, brushed off his front, evaded the streetlamp's aura, and continued to the entrance. So far, so good. He was amused at the rookies they had out standing guard at this time of night. But, he was lucky. Had it been some veteran officer, he may have had to take more drastic measures.

The first thing he expected was a secretary on graveyard shift. And that's what he got. Through the glass doors, he could see a small woman sitting at a desk, shifting through some papers and writing down notes. Pride remained unnoticed even as he placed a hand on the glass and watched her. The guards were one thing, but how would he handle this? No way of sneaking up on her… and what if she screamed?

After a few moments of thinking, Pride let out a sigh and decided to take the unavoidable direct approach. She would wonder who would be out (dressed like this) at this time of night, but maybe he could fool her. As he carefully pushed open the door, he caught the eyes of the secretary - whose face drained of all color upon seeing him. He panicked, searching in his mind for a tactic that would calm her down. He plastered on the best smile he could manage and held out a hand with a small formal bow, taking a few steps closer to her desk.

"I've come to see Colonel Mustang. It's quite urgent." He attempted.

The woman went stiff with fear and grabbed something under the desk.

Pride threw his hands up, leveled with his head as the barrel of her small hand gun was pointed at his chest. So close, he was right in front of the desk. He knew it wouldn't kill him, he hardly expected her to know how to use it in one shot, which was all she had, if any at all. At least she hadn't screamed yet. He didn't attempt to speak anymore, to try and reason with her. Envy had told him about a certain aura he possessed, chaotic-like and easily picked up upon. Pride was a living, walking, weapon and anyone who saw him knew it.

They stayed like this for a few moments. Knowing he was dangerous, knowing she wouldn't actually try to shoot him. They didn't break eye contact, though her eyes shone with panic, and Pride was amused; he smiled despite himself.

Using the speed that only a being living off a substance of raw power and energy had, Pride lunged forward with the chloroform cloth in hand. She opened her mouth, breathing in so she could scream, and Pride clamped his hand over her mouth. Backing away from the homunculus, she grabbed his wrists and tried to pull herself away. Pride easily climbed over the desk and pushed her back to the wall. She struggled for a moment, before sliding a little less-than-peacefully to the floor, gun dropping from her hand. Now that he was out of chloroform, he would have to adapt.

Pride picked up her gun and began taking it apart in seconds, stopping only when he saw it was lacking any ammo and slid it into a drawer of her desk. He shifted through her papers, ignoring the icy sensation on his hands from the drying chemical, and found what he was looking for under a pile of useless complaint forms. Honestly, at this point, the military had so many other things to worry about.

He grabbed the map of the building off the desk and recalled the Colonel's room number. It discovered there were still a few floors before he would reach his destination. Luckily, there were stairs not too far from the front door.

He quietly walked down the hallway of the first floor: lesser offices, the cafeteria, and the library, among other things. There were three others after this: The second floor held dorms mostly, the third floor had the offices of higher ranking officials, and the fourth floor held more offices, storerooms, labs, and the Führer's room. Everything was silent, but he still listened for the footsteps of a wayward soldier. When none came by the time he reached the intersection of the halls, he continued forward to the staircase in the back of the building. It was simple enough, climb two more flights of stairs and he was a few turns and a couple minutes of walking away from his target.

* * *

"Why did you send him on this mission? He's practically a newborn, in our sense." Sloth asked Envy, crossing her arms over her chest. 

The two sins stood in the forest; they had stopped for a _chat_ on their way to the laboratory. Envy looked like he would have killed to avoid this conversation.

"He has a lot more familiarity with death than most of the human pawns we could have used instead." He said coldly, and stalked off.

"_You_ could have done it with that logic." She whispered. She didn't care if he heard that or not.

Sloth sighed and turned in the opposite direction, gazing off into what would be the horizon if it wasn't the middle of the night. It was closing in on 2:30; Sloth wondered how Pride was doing with his task. Anyways, she wouldn't know until tomorrow, since he had to get back to Dublith from Central. There wasn't anything she could do about Envy now. There wasn't anything she could do about her unusual worry over the boy, though she knew why.

And Envy's hatred ran deep for that boy, just as it did for her.

* * *

This was it, Pride wanted to laugh with joy, or success. He crouched outside of the Colonel's door, he wasn't sure if it was locked or not, but jiggling the doorknob would alert his target faster, so he decided to try and unlock it. If it was already unlocked, well, it just made this whole task a lot easier for him. Poking the doorknob with his finger, he figured he could shock it a little and (quietly) destroy the internal mechanics of the lock. 

He hesitated, his mood changed completely within a few seconds. He hadn't thought of how he would kill this man. Sure, there were a few ways, but could he really do it?

As he convinced himself a moment's discomfort was worth much longer approval, he picked up on the sound of footsteps. He looked around nervously; he couldn't get caught now, now that he was so close.

"Hey!" The presumed guard barked.

Pride scowled, turning his head slightly so he could watch them out of the corner of his eye. There were two; they were far down the hall, but approaching somewhat quickly. He looked up and smiled. The bright orbs that lit the hallway were connected by an exterior wire. And if there was no light, the humans wouldn't see him.

He got up slowly, but kept his hand on the doorknob. One soldier started to wave him over.

"Keep your hands up!" He yelled. Pride was nervous, anymore racket from these two and…

He smirked, as his hand erupted in a flurry of crackling and rapid blue light around the doorknob. Instead of quietly destroying the inside, it exploded completely, sending shards of slipshod metal into his palm before the electricity snaked up the wall. Pride cursed, looking down at his bleeding hand as it healed, pushing the small fragments clean out of his hand and the blood evaporated. There were yells, and Pride looked back up to see each orb explode with the exaggerated amount of electricity, consuming the halls with darkness quickly, until it reached the soldiers who held up their hands to keep the glass from falling onto them.

Pride shoved open the now doorknob less entrance as they disappeared from sight, wasting no time before clasping his hands over the door, sealing it by pulling in material from the wall around it with alchemy. With all that racket, there was no denying the fact that this was now a race, kill the target before he was found.

There was a shuffling behind him; the Colonel had stood up from his desk, all but fearful of the homunculus' entrance.

"Finally… after all this trouble, I've got you." Pride said quietly, a few yards from where the Colonel stood, as he moved to the front of his desk.

He shook his head. "I don't know what's gotten _into_ you, Fullmetal. But this ends now." He said, eyes narrowing and raised his hand, fingers poised to snap. He was quick, but Pride was quicker. Pride side-stepped, and imitating his adversary's movement, he raised his hand and snapped, sending a thick wire of static straight to the man's chest. It wasn't enough energy to kill him, but it stunned him, forcing him to ease to the floor. The man's flame had dissipated in the air where Pride stood only a few moments before.

Mustang took a glance at the door, now crudely sealed. It was the only way out, other than one of the windows, which was a three story drop straight to the ground. He looked back at Pride, who was rubbing his eye absently.

"_Something wrong?"_ He asked sarcastically. The boy looked like he had stopped to gather his thoughts while the Colonel was incapacitated.

Pride snapped back to the present, frowning, and slid the knife from his belt with uncertainty. "No."

His target was sitting back against the desk; hands lay useless at his sides. Pride kneeled down, his knees on either side of Mustang's legs, and pressured the knife against his throat. Would Envy know if he killed him the easier way? Or was this supposed to be a lesson on killing?

"Colonel Roy Mustang?"  
"Yes."  
"Why did you call me 'Fullmetal'?"  
"That's your name."

He would have only been half-right. Who would name their son "Fullmetal"? _Son_… That word sent a chill down his spine. Resisting the urge to shudder, he pushed the knife a little more, still having not broken the skin. His hesitation would be noticed.

Pride narrowed his eyes, "Do you know me?" He asked.

Mustang twitched a few of his fingers on one hand, anxious for the paralysis to fade. "I guess I used to." He said, trying to stall. He began to feel the sensation of freezing water in his veins as the numbness started to lift.

"I'm sorry I have to do this then."

"No, you aren't." Mustang said forcefully, bringing up his hand. At point blank range, there was no need to aim his hand. He snapped, and fire blazed just under Pride's chin.

Pride recoiled, sliding back away from the Colonel, the knife dropping from his hand to clutch his face. Mustang brought up his leg and kicked Pride square in the chest, sending him far back enough to stand up and back away a reasonable distance. He took notice for a few moments while Pride fumbled as he tried to stand up that the boy hadn't had much experience in fighting, unlike the old Edward. To subdue him would be easy, to talk to him wouldn't.

But it wasn't enough. As Pride rolled onto his knees and slowly stood up, Mustang aimed a kick that contacted the front of his boot with Pride's jaw. It hit, and Pride was sent back to the floor a few feet to the right side of the room.

As the colorful dancing lights faded from behind Pride's eyes, he knew he was recovering, but refused to move, lest he be caught in another surprise attack. He heard his target's boots thudding on the floor, towards him. The man knelt beside his face; a gloved hand grabbed his chin and made him look up. There were those eyes, as black as his hair. "I suggest you tell me why you came here just to threaten me."

"I came here to kill you." Pride said, half groaning, and knowing the question was a set-up. "I don't know why. I had my orders." He wrenched out of Mustang's grip and stood up fast, backing away towards one of the windows. This time, the Colonel made no move to attack him again, he just stood.

They both turned their heads sharply as they heard thudding from the other side of the door. A hulking voice barked orders and the door shook with alchemic strikes.

"What a great time for Armstrong to show up." Mustang mumbled, annoyed.

Pride had already broken and stripped the jagged glass from the window with his alchemy, and was now crouching on the sill, peering down into the darkness. It was a long way down. It would break more than a few bones in his body, but after a few moments of pain, he would be fully recovered and continue to retreat. He turned back, the Colonel merely glared at him as he prepared to jump. He obviously didn't want to fight him anymore.

The door burst open, officers stormed the office, and Pride jumped. His back dragged against the outside wall painfully, but his hands slapped the brick and his alchemy traveled down faster than he fell, jutting out a section of the wall halfway down. Pride dropped to that point, absorbing most of the impact in his knees, and hung himself over the edge, dropping the rest of the way to the ground.

It was nice to be out in the open again, letting the cold night air grip his nerves. He looked up, personnel looked out the windows, guns aloft and positioning on him.

He began to run, as far away, as fast as he could. Pride figured it was almost 3 am. Once he got over the outer wall and made his way out of the city, he would be back to Dante's home by tomorrow afternoon.

Therein laid the problem: once he returned home, he would have to face whatever wrath would be waiting for him because of his failed mission.

* * *

Hope you liked it. I had fun writing it. :D 

As always: Review, criticize, etc.

Hopefully the next chapter won't take so looong.

Until next time


	10. Run Away

Woot! Finally!

Enjoy! XD

* * *

Sloth sat on the window seat of the "family" room in Dante's home, her eyes scanning over the pages of a book. She had decided to wake up early, anticipating Pride's return, but when he returned later in the afternoon, Envy took him for a conversation. That was well over an hour ago, and Sloth was still waiting.

One thing she could admit to loving was reading, learning about the humans. They were intuitive, loyal, intelligent, but so ignorant. Sometimes they got so caught up in the present that they ended up repeating the past. The book in her hands recalled the Ishbalan war. The recorded cause of it was wrong is memory served her right. Still, she enjoyed reading the handiwork of her siblings.

She sighed and put down the book. There was only so much she could read before it became boring. She looked out the window, 5 o'clock and the sun was already beginning to set. It was a mystery of winter. She was growing anxious, why were they taking so long?

A series of distinctive thuds made her turn to the stairs, where she watched Pride drop like a ragdoll. He rolled and stopped only when his back hit the front door hard. Sloth had stood up, watching as Pride stood up, shaking, and groped behind him for the door handle. Once he had it in his grip, he hesitated and waited for Envy to walk down the stairs and confront him.

"_How_ could you be so _useless? How_ could you _fail?" _Envy snarled, taking a few steps towards the boy.

Sloth watched as Pride flinched at the enunciations, but stood his ground, eyes narrowed even as he continued to shake slightly. The corner of his mouth twitched like he wanted to say something, but couldn't bring himself to speak. Envy was seething. Sloth had seen him mad before, but there was something different in his eyes, something deeper than anger.

A few moments of silence passed between the three of them, save for Pride's nervous breathing. Pride's gaze flickered to Sloth, then back to Envy, and with a quick shake of his head, he turned the knob and was out the door. Envy ran to stop him, ending up with the door in his face. He was still seething, and to make things worse, Dante walked in. Apparently, she had seen the whole scene.

"You're such a fool." Dante whispered and Envy turned to face her. "You knew how important he is and you just let him walk away?" She stomped over to Envy and promptly slapped him across the face. He took it, of course, with submission, not choosing to look back at her once the stinging faded. Instead he stared at the floor, Sloth noticed a change in his expression, and he almost looked hurt.

Once Dante walked away, Envy pulled his gaze from the floor and walked away as well. Sloth noticed, they had both left as if she wasn't even there.

Pride ran. He wasn't quite sure where to, but he ran. The town of Dublith wasn't too far off and he knew his way around, sort of. It would do better than Dante's home any ways. Pride had remembered to follow the forest tunnel a certain distance, then there would be a hidden trail leading to a dirt road that led down the cliff in an arch. It was too narrow and steep for any vehicle to maneuver, but if he was careful, he could climb down it easily.

He shouldn't _have _to do this, run away… What was Envy's problem? Not even a week he's existed (as far as he knew) and already his eldest brother hated him. Well, that wasn't much of a problem now. Pride kept running, kept his mind on breathing, ran a map of Dublith through his thoughts, deciding where he could go.

He stopped wondering when he got to the trail: a line of large rocks that cut through the forest and was easily overlooked. It led him to the road, maybe a few feet in width, with thick bushes serving as handholds maybe half a mile down. Only half a mile to maneuver, then it would be dark, and walking through the town looking the way he did would be less nerve racking.

Pride put his right foot forward and onto the beginning of the path, going down the first several feet using the handholds. It felt odd not using alchemy, but he didn't want to draw attention to himself. He steadied himself with calming thoughts of how nice it would be to be away from the house. It worked, for the most part, before he lost his hold and slid several yards down the slope, small rocks and thorny bushes cutting into his skin. Pride clawed at the dirt until he managed to grab onto one of the thorn-less bushes and jolt to an abrupt stop. His wounds began healing.

* * *

Roy Mustang turned his chair around and sat down with a heavy sigh. All of HQ had been busy with work since the night before, and all day there had been officials in and out of his office. Armstrong came in early and fixed the hole in his wall quite easily. People were bustling around in his office; most of them were looking over the damage done to the door. Mustang would give anything for a moment alone to mull over the events of the night before.

With another heavy sigh, Mustang got up from his chair and made his way through the throng of personnel to the hallway outside his office. There he took a moment to look up at the shattered lights and doorknob. The kid's new alchemy was amazing, but destructive.

"Sir.", a familiar voice addressed him from behind. Mustang turned and looked to see Master Sergeant Fuery frozen in salute.

"At ease, soldier." Mustang groaned, but he was honestly relieved to see a friendly face. Fuery returned the Colonel with a smile.

Fuery looked around nervously, pulled out a small folder from under his coat and handed it to the Colonel, satisfied that everyone around them was too busy with their own business to notice the two of them. "I believe this is what you wanted." The Colonel took it gratefully and cracked it open, taking a quick glance inside. It was all the work Fuery had kept himself busy with, picking up where Hughes _left off_. When the Colonel found out Fuery was losing himself in the same trouble that his dearly departed friend had, well, Mustang was a little less than happy. But, nonetheless, it was useful, especially if it could save another one of their team.

Mustang frowned disapprovingly, but nodded appreciatively. "Thank you. These will… help. I hope." He said. Fuery saluted and walked off, leaving Mustang to fan himself casually with the folder as he stepped back through the crowd of people and into his office.

* * *

The air was knocked out of Pride's lungs as his back hit the wall. He clawed at the hands around his neck that kept him pinned to the wall.

"This is our turf, kid." His confronter's putrid breath rolled over him like a heat wave.

Pride cursed himself for being so careless. The darkest part of Dublith, at night, and he assumed he would get through it without trouble. Now, he had been accosted by three men, one had a _tail_… maybe leaving Dante's place wasn't such a great idea after all. And Pride still stood by his "no civilian casualties" rule, if these men could be considered civilians…

"Hey, what should we do with him?" One man at the side asked, grinning hungrily.

The man's thick reptilian tail fishtailed from side to side as his grip on Pride's throat tightened. "Gee, I dunno, we could kill 'im. Who would notice?" He said. Pride swallowed hard, approaching a conclusion. He could feel the static collecting at his fingertips…

Then he heard a metallic swipe, like a sword being unsheathed. All four of them looked over and saw a short man with a katana in his hands. He had small, canine eyes and greenish hair that was cut short.

"Let him go." He growled.

Pride was dropped to the ground as the three men backed away, and not so much from the intimidating weapon. "Yeah, yeah, we don't want no trouble." The one with the tail said, hands up and backing away. The others followed him until they disappeared into the night.

Pride steadied himself and stood his ground nervously as the short man walked over to him. "Who're you?" Pride asked.

"The name's Dorochet." He said, sheathing his sword and holding out his hand. Pride took it and nodded. Dorochet cocked his head quizzically. "I don't suppose you trust me enough to tell me your name?" When Pride didn't answer, Dorochet shrugged. "That's fine." He said and became distracted by the tattoo on Pride's shoulder. He narrowed his eyes, "I think I know someone that would like to meet you. Come on." He said and walked off without a second glance. Pride followed.

Dorochet took him to a staircase that led into the bottom half of a small building. The sign over the door had "Devil's Nest" painted sloppily on a square piece of wood. Inside it was quiet, but busy. Smoke hovered close to the ceiling and there were more people entwined with each other than Pride could count. One man in particular seemed the center of the commotion.

"Boss!" Dorochet called from the doorway. That man, who had his arm around one woman, saying things into her ear that made her blush and giggle flirtatiously, looked over, slightly annoyed. He tipped his sunglasses down to see Pride and grinned, revealing two rows of animalistic teeth.

"Well kid, it's about time you showed up!" The "boss" said and stood up with a laugh. He walked over and slapped a hand on Pride's shoulder that almost set the boy off balance. "My name's Greed… and I think we're going to become _good friends._"

* * *

Hope that was a good chapter.

Until next time! Bye!


	11. How Could This Place Be Better?

**x3 Enjoy.**

* * *

"So, this is where you can sleep tonight." 

Dorochet leaned again the door frame while he spoke to Pride, who was sitting precariously on the edge of a small bed.

"I know it doesn't seem like it, but Greed's kind of a neat freak when it comes to himself." He said, planting his left hand on the doorknob and hanging there. He looked anxious to get back to the main room, which was just down the hall from Greed's room. He tapped his foot impatiently when Pride didn't reply. "So... yeah, the night isn't really a good time to come here, but tomorrow, I know Greed will have more to say to you, because of your.. You know." He said, waving a finger at Pride's shoulder. Pride looked down at his ouroboros and eyed Dorochet dangerously. Couldn't he just say it?

He gave another quick wave and slammed the door enthusiastically. Pride sat there wide eyed for a moment, almost startled by the quick and lame introduction. With a glance at the bed he was sitting on, he debated whether or not he was tired enough to trust this place during his unconsciousness. He _was_ tired. When was the last time he slept? Two or three days? Taking a second glance at the bed, it looked cleaner than it had a few seconds before. He decided it was better than the floor at least, and he did need the sleep, if not just to pass the time. With careful movements, he slipped on top of the blanket and curled up, keeping his knees close to his chest and his chin down. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but he could sleep. He closed his eyes and recounted the events of the past few days. As far back as Central.

First, there was the Colonel, whom he was supposed to kill, but couldn't. Something stopped him, maybe because it was blatantly obvious the man knew him? Pride didn't feel right killing someone who knew him personally, something like that could leave room for regret, which is _not_ something a homunculus needs on top of everything else.

Then there was Envy, who was _pissed_ beyond any form of consolidation, except perhaps for the death of Pride, which wasn't really... a good idea.

So he ran (which probably pissed Envy off even more), and where did he run to? An underground tavern in the "bad" part of town. And he was at the mercy of its residents, who weren't too bad, considering they made themselves out to be of decent personality. After all, they did give him a place to sleep until tomorrow. How long would he stay here? He would have to go back to Dante's home eventually and face Envy's wrath... again.

Pride curled up tighter as he experienced the same twisting anxiety he felt the night he failed his first mission. Now, all of a sudden, slipping out of consciousness didn't seem so bad.

* * *

_Hughes picked up the shot glass and eyed it curiously before setting it back down and turning to his friend, "What do you mean?"_

_Roy swallowed his glass quickly, enjoying the feeling of warmth filling his face and chest as the drink slipped its way down his throat. "Regret... how else am I supposed to explain it?"_

_"That's why I chose a job farther away from the front line. You, on the other hand, were one of many who had a death wish." He said as he pushed away the shot glass as the bartender slid a tall glass of darker liquid his way. _

_Roy sighed. How was he supposed to confide in someone who didn't see what he had? There were too many horrors of the battlefield that Hughes didn't experience, not because he was too gutless to fight, but he had a girl waiting for him back home, and he wanted to make sure he got back in one piece. A desk job was the smartest thing during that time. He drank another shot. "I guess I just can't stop thinking about that kid."_

_"You mean the one Armstrong carried back? Yeah... that one was unfortunate. In the army at such a young age. They should ban that sort of thing."_

_Giovanni. Only 14 and he was with the men, running head first into the activity of battle. Poor kid took a bullet to the stomach. It wasn't a killing blow, so he suffered for 13 hours, never made a sound, but those around him knew he was fully awake the entire time. You can't rest with that kind of injury. Since that moment, Roy questioned why he was there, though he wasn't sure of the entire back story. _

_"Well!" Hughes exclaimed, standing up, full of newfound enthusiasm. "You just need to remember one thing when you feel like this..." _

_Roy looked over at his friend, who was not one to skip out on proverbs when the situation called for one or a few. _

_"...own life."_

_Huh?_

"MUSTANG."

He woke up with an awkward grunt and almost slipped off his chair. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as they focused on the figure standing in front of his desk. A lazy "Huh?" passed his lips before he realized it was none other than the pretentious Lieutenant Colonel. Looking down, he saw the files he received from Fuery. He slipped them under the desk, stood up, and leaned into Archer's face with a glare that could kill. "What do you want?"

Archer returned the glare, but backed down back into his chair, as did Mustang. "Now is that any way to address a fellow Colonel?"

Mustang cocked an eyebrow. "Since when?"

"Recently. I was promoted. But, that's not important. All I want to know now is what you saw of the Elric boy."

"You stay away from him." Mustang snarled.

"What's with the sudden defensiveness? Do you have a bit of a soft spot for the boy?" Archer mused.

Mustang sat back in his chair, its squeaking relaxed the tense moment. "I wouldn't call it a _spot_." He spat, smirking. "But whatever you want him for is a little less than soft, am I wrong?"

"You could say that. Even so, I'm under strict orders to find and arrest him. He attacked_ you_. Wouldn't you agree he can now be considered a criminal?"

"He's not himself, obviously. And you chasing after him won't do anything but provoke him."

Archer narrowed his eyes and stood abruptly, making his way to the door without another word. He grabbed the doorknob and paused, his head shaking as if he debated whether or not to keep the discussion going. "Provoke him, or_ not._ I will find him. I will go through you, and anyone else to get to him. And it's only a matter of time before he does some _real_ damage, and then not even you can protect him." Without a second glance, he swung open the door and stalked out, but not before he threw back a, "Rest well, Colonel."

Mustang tapped his finger angrily on the top of his desk, before sideswiping a cup of pens to his right, sending them toppling over the edge.

* * *

He opened the door to his room, with Dorochet at his side. Greed stepped in and saw the uncomfortable looking heap that was Pride, sleeping on his bed. With a comically surprised expression, Greed mumbled, "He's taller than he was before... I think." 

Greed waved Dorochet out of the room, strolled over to the side of the bed, and clamped his left hand onto Pride's shoulder like a vise. Pride twitched, but eased out of his sleep and turned his head to his right shoulder. He opened his eyes to an ouroboros, like his own, but with a pale scar running down the middle of it. His eyes moved from the hand to the man it was attached to. "Uh..." Pride mumbled. It took him a few seconds to register his surroundings before he remembered the man was Greed, or "boss", or something.

Greed let go of Pride as he sat up and took a few steps back towards the door, "Wake yourself up and come to the main room." He said, turning to leave.

"Wait, wait. I'm up." Pride said, stumbling off of the bed.

"Oh, so it _does_ speak. Follow me."

The greeting was a little colder than last night, but Pride rubbed his eyes and followed Greed down the hall. "Have anything else to say?" Greed asked.

Pride thought for a moment. He didn't like to speak. It wasn't that he didn't know what to say, he just never thought he should say anything, because most of the time it got him in trouble. By now he learned to just do what they ask and not to question it. But, now that he was in the presence of a slightly safer homunculus, he felt he needed to clear some things up. "You're one of them, aren't you?"

Greed stopped and stared at the back of his left hand. "Them? I hope you know you're one of _them_ too."

Pride said nothing, slightly embarrassed at the fact he forgot to mention himself in that statement. He just nodded.

Greed let out a long sigh, "Yeah, kid. I'm one of them."

Pride looked up, a little more relieved at his friendlier tone.

They had continued walking again, down the hall, towards the main room, when Greed spoke again. "No need to be so silent around here. Ask me anything! I'm sure there are plenty of things Envy would kill me for telling you." Pride looked stunned, so Greed continued. "But, don't let that hold you back."

* * *

**Much shorter and a lot less info than I wanted it to have, but I needed to get something added, and this is what I came up with!**  
**I'll try and update with a good chapter as soon as I can. XD**


	12. Specific Alliances

**Yay! Chapter 12 is finally out of my head! I really do have to say though... when I was coming up with the whole story in my head one afternoon... I never thought I would actually get this far... and it feels so good!  
**

**As always - Enjoy!**

* * *

"You were really trapped in lab 5 for over a hundred years...?" Pride asked quietly. **(I regret to inform you that the timing of the story speaks for itself... so all the questions Pride could ask really happened between this chapter and the last one and... maybe next chapter I'll get to the good stuff.) **

Greed looked at him with amusement and nodded, leaning back from Pride, who was maybe five inches away from his face. Inwardly, Greed almost complained about the fact it was difficult enough before to get Pride to say something, and now it seemed impossible to get him to shut up. He could tolerate it, though.

Pride settled back onto his side of the couch, satisfied with the nod as an answer, and looked around the main room. Now that he was out of questions, for the moment at least, he stayed silent. This pissed Greed off more, this constant reversal of silence and speaking. "You can talk anytime you want, you know. Just because you don't have a question doesn't mean you've lost your voice." Greed snapped, but he knew he couldn't blame the kid. After all, he still remembered what it was like to live around Envy. Suppressing a shudder, Greed heard a grunt of acknowledgment from beside him.

"We were something before this, right?" Pride said. "No, I know we were something."

"Yeah we were. Human." Greed answered casually, having already came to the understanding of his existence. Perhaps he should have considered the poor, fragile psyche of the newest addition to his "family", but consideration were for those who still had something to hold on to.

He heard a shuffling and looked beside him, where Pride pulled his legs to his chest and looked through his knees at his hands. "Did you know me?" He asked tentatively.

Greed rolled his eyes to the ceiling as he thought of an answer. At last he exhaled a short burst of laughter, "Yeah! You could say that!" Pride looked at him, surprised. "You were.. short, annoying, brave to the point of stupidity, and you tried to kill me."

Pride cocked an eyebrow and tilted his frown. Why didn't he sound angry? "How was I-"

"You look thirsty." A soft voice cut him off from behind them, and a small glass was slipped into his hand. Pride looked up and saw a tall, slim woman with cropped blonde hair and an intriguing purple tattoo that snaked up her shoulder and the side of her face. She smiled when their eyes met, then leaned down and whispered something to Greed.

"Good, go get Dorochet and we'll leave." He said, smirking.

The woman nodded and made her way to another room down the hall. Greed watched her walk away. "That was Marta, by the way. Dunno what'd I do without her around to keep things running smoothly."

"Where are we going?" Pride asked, and took a gulp of the water out of the glass in his hand, all the while staring at Greed curiously.

With an exhausted grunt, Greed stood up and stretched his arm across his chest. "You'll see."

* * *

Mustang tapped the pencil on his desk restlessly. Expectancy had hung in the air for a week. The Führer was meant to come back from his _business_ trip to Eastern Headquarters. All the higher-ups (those of which did not include himself) were discussing terms of war: distribution, movement, and evacuation of troops; shipment, storage, and maintenance of supplies; hospitalization; fortification. The country of Amestris was preparing for war and he still hadn't the foggiest idea when they were planning to move out. Central Headquarters would know today, hopefully. 

A quiet knock on his door made him look up. "Come in." Mustang called.

A younger, red haired man stepped in, wide eyed and biting his lower lip. "Sir, I..." He started, hesitant, as if debating whether or not it was a good idea to approach the Colonel.

The Colonel took notice to his apprehension. "What's your name?"

"David, sir. David Laybourn." Only then had he remembered formalities and gave the Colonel a proper salute.

"Right. What did you come here for?"

The young man quickly glanced at his feet, looked behind him, anything to keep from looking at Mustang. "I have... a message from Brigadier General Archer."

Mustang blinked. _What?_ "Brigadier General?"

"Yes, sir. He was promoted when he was away with Führer Hakuro. They're back now..." Laybourn paused as he struggled to recall the message, thanks to other things obviously cluttering his mind.

"Which means..." The Colonel tilted his head expectantly. Even with all the stress that had been piled on him lately, Mustang felt an odd amount of patience for this soldier, maybe because he was so young and distracted.

"That all personnel should collect on the parade grounds at oh-six hundred hours." He straightened up and recited the message as if it had been shocked back into his memory at that moment.

Mustang took a glance at the clock. It was noon.

Laybourn's shoulders slumped again and he relaxed, but still seemed distracted. "They're going to announce our departure, I guess."

Mustang leaned in and stared at Laybourn, although the latter didn't seem to notice. He was acting inappropriately casual. There was something more behind the glassy green eyes of his subordinate; he looked paranoid and hesitant. "That's right... and how old are you, private?" Mustang asked.

"Nineteen, sir."

_Of course._ He was younger than most enlisted soldiers. Such a young man _would_be nervous going into battle.

Laybourn wrung his hands and spoke again. "I understand the Ishbalan war, why it was started, and the problems our government has with them. I thought it was over! Why are we reviving old conflicts?"

"I, myself, don't know the answer to that question. The Führer and his Brigadier General have a different way of approaching things. Maybe they're bored." Mustang said and chuckled.

Laybourn gave him a wary glance and turned to the door. He was about to grab the knob, but stopped. There was something he needed to say, but it would be better said in the company of one logical officer than in a hallway full of random soldiers and officials. "All of this may start a revolution." He said, voice low enough that it cracked, but in the silence of the office, Mustang was bound to pick up on a key word.

"Excuse me, private?"

Laybourn turned his back to the door, and for the first time in their entire conversation he looked into the Colonel's eyes. "Nothing, sir." He said, and after a few moments turned and left. Mustang returned to his paperwork, for which he had now six more hours to complete. Time never came easy to him-- Damn his procrastination.

The attention to his paperwork came short though, because he began tapping his pencil again, and smirked. "A revolution you say?" Mustang mumbled to himself. He loved that word. It was always on the tip of his tongue whenever he stepped into Central Headquarters. Even more so now that Hakuro was Führer and the next in like was surely Archer. Archer-- Hughes' replacement in the beginning. _My ass._ He was being trained to become the ideal Führer: Keep control of your country and countries around it with fear and violence. After all, Archer gained the rank equivalent to Hughes' in almost the same amount of time that it took Hughes to realize he had dug his own grave.

Mustang leaned into his chair and threw his head back, releasing an over exaggerated groan. At that moment, Private Laybourn came back into his office without so much as a knock. "Sir!"

"What?" Mustang said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I forgot to mention: Lieutenant Colonel Kimblee's trial is today. It should be starting soon." The young man reported hastily.

Mustang stood and walked over to the Private, throwing one open hand out the door and the other flat on Laybourn's back, pushing him to lead. "Well then, let's go. It would be rude to arrive late."

* * *

Pride walked closely behind Greed, flanked by the two he met in the bar: Dorochet and Marta. Greed kept his thumbs stuck in his pockets and his head down, preferring to scan their surroundings over the rim of his glasses. 

They were walking down a stone side street from the back door of the bar. From there, they could only go left, for on the right there was a brick wall that sealed off a main street from the back neighborhood. That street split into two, going opposite directions. They took the first right turn, cautiously strolling between two long apartment buildings. Smoking attendants leaned over the fire escapes and wires strung between windows hung drying laundry. Dumpsters and stray trash littered the edge and a mangled bicycle hid the broken window of a ground level room. Looking ahead, this alley led nowhere close to a main street, so where ever they were going was buried deep within the slums.

They walked, and all the while they stayed silent, not particularly fishing for unfriendly attention. Whenever they turned a corner, Pride noticed Greed looking in every direction, as if worried they were being followed. Pride confronted Greed about this, and he confirmed his suspicions by saying Envy already knew where Greed slept, and it would cause more trouble if he knew where Greed spent his valuable time away from the Devil's Nest. Dorochet and Marta shifted uncomfortably at the answer and moved closer to Pride, edging him closer to Greed, so that they were in a tight group. They made their second left, into a road that crossed under a bridge higher than the rooftops. The building to their left looked familiar, and Pride noticed all they did was circle one of the beginning apartment buildings, which was bigger than Pride previously realized.

After a few minutes, and even more paranoid glances from all three of the Devil's dwellers, Pride saw an interesting hanging sign. It was a light wood, with a snake curled up into a spiral painted on its surface. It intrigued him, and he quickened his pace to match Greed's.

"Is that it?" Pride whispered to Greed, and pointed to the sign.

Greed answered him with a nod, along with another quick glance towards the rooftops.

They approached the entrance, which was a wooden door that was being kept open with a grey brick. It was odd to see such an open gesture, considering the neighborhood. Dorochet and Marta found it more appropriate to stick within the shadows outside, while Greed pushed Pride through the threshold and hung out against the door. Pride turned to Greed again, confused, but was gently waved off in the direction of a large counter. Pride walked up to it, quite unsure of what to do or who to call for, and rapped his fingers on the surface.

Without warning, a young woman popped up from behind the counter, dropping a basket of glass bottles with a surprised gasp. One of the bottles shattered on the floor, the commotion of which caused Greed to look over. The woman noticed him by the door and breathed a sigh of relief.

Pride was already behind the counter himself, on his knees in the mess of shattered glass, hands out. One hand held the neck and whatever was left of half of the bottle, the other hand planted over several smaller shards of glass that split from the main part. Iridescent sparks of his electrical brand of alchemy began to cyclone around his two hands, several smaller sparks retrieving shards of glass outside of the radius of his hand and brought them into his workspace with lightning quick speed. The woman kneeled down, and upon noticing the passive nature of his alchemy, brought her hands close to his. Even Greed leaned in to see the commotion. The cyclone thinned towards its crest and disappeared into the air, the pieces of the bottle rearranging within the activity of the blue-silver lights. Once the sparks faded and the room silenced, Pride stood up with the repaired bottle in his hands.

An older man walked into the room. He had long, blond hair, like Pride, only pulled back into a ponytail, with a few stiff strands falling over his face in an arc. His eyes were narrowed in golden suspicion, but softened upon seeing Pride.

Only then had he looked around and noticed all eyes were on him. Greed exhaled a short chuckle, and the older man joined in, walking over to Pride with open arms and enveloped him in an overwhelming hug, while the woman backed away, with two fingers pressed to her lips in suppressed laughter.

Pride stumbled backwards, almost dropping the bottle he was surprised to have fixed in the first place. The man threw Pride back at arms length, keeping his hands planted on Pride's shoulders. Pride held the bottle in his shaking hands while whoever-he-was spoke:

"Welcome home, son."

* * *

Roy Mustang arrived at the Central courthouse by half past noon, accompanied by his earlier acquaintance: David Laybourn. 

Private Laybourn drove and every so often stole glances at the Colonel, trying to take a guess at what would have him so eager to see the trial. The Colonel, who had maintained his stern military decorum throughout the trip to the courthouse, had been deep in thoughts of his own seething emotions. No one fought hard to get Kimblee out of jail when he was first sentenced to life. He was a severe war criminal, with no chance of bail and no hint of a conscience that would drive him to prefer a less violent life. Usually a man with so much against him had no chance to ever get out of the high security prison he had been escorted out of earlier today. Mustang wanted to make sure he was there to see the trial, to see the man responsible for releasing the hardened criminal who slaughtered his own men to get to the Ishbalans in a long gone war.

"Sir?" Laybourn piped up from next to him. "Ah... could you tell me a bit about this Lieutenant Colonel?" He asked.

Mustang winced at the mention of Kimblee's rank. "He was a state alchemist. 'The Crimson Alchemist'. In the Ishbalan war, he killed hundreds of his fellow soldiers along with an equal amount of the enemy. Needless to say, the higher ranking officials didn't find the sacrifice necessary, so he was sentenced to life in solitary confinement."

"Why solitary?" Laybourn asked.

"His hands. He could turn you into a human bomb by laying a hand on your shoulder." Mustang answered emotionlessly.

Private Laybourn didn't ask anymore questions after that.

They parked in front, since cars were a little less than rare for most officials. Colonel Mustang walked with Private Laybourn up the white stone steps to the courthouse's main doors. Once approached, they were directed to the room where Kimblee's trial would be held. Lucky them, they were just in time.

Taking seats close to the back of the room, they suffered through the introduction long enough to witness Kimblee being escorted in through a door to the right of the judge's seat. He looked horrible; obviously, years of hard time had taken its toll on the man.

Kimblee's hair had grown past his midsection and clung to his head, matted with sweat. His gaze remained on his shackles-- A wooden rectangle, his hands trapped within two holes, keeping them apart. Chains ran from the wood to shackles around his ankles. Years of that must have driven him mad, virtually unable to bring his hands together. When provoked by the guard, Kimblee finally raised his head and scanned the audience, resting his eyes on Mustang with an almost maddening smirk. His cheeks were sunken in, his eyes had dark circles under his eyes, less from fatigue and more from lack of psychological rest. Mustang returned the gaze coldly, and he heard Private Laybourn physically shiver beside him. Kimblee smiled, revealing sharp teeth which time had seemed to leave alone.

The doors beside Mustang and Laybourn flew open, and a exhausted Brigadier General Archer stalked down the aisle, waving a hand in the general direction of the judge. "Sorry, I'm late."

Kimblee's gaze flew from Mustang to Archer, an almost mischievous gleam reflected in his blood red eyes. Archer returned the gaze with a nod, then turned to the judge with an almost expecting demeanor.

"_The bail is set_, Brigadier General." She snapped, defensively.

Mustang leaned in, placing one hand over his mouth in observation. _Fixed..._ He accused.

"Then on behalf of the Führer, your honor..." Archer trailed off, as if taking in a moment of glory. In this moment, the judge straightened in her seat, and the guard holding Kimblee shifted uncomfortably.

Archer pulled out a long piece of paper, strolled over to the judge's podium, and gave it to her. "I believe you'll find it's the agreed amount."

"I certainly hope so." She said, turned to Kimblee and waved her hand dismissively. "You're free to go."

Mustang's breath caught in his throat as he watched the guard unlock his prisoner. Kimblee rubbed his hands together and got an almost blissful look on his face.

Archer and Kimblee both walked back down the aisle of the courtroom. Mustang kept his gaze forward and his jaw set, he wouldn't let them see his disbelief and Mustang hoped Private Laybourn had the same amount of sense.

As Kimblee passed, Mustang heard his voice, hoarse from lack of use. "It's nice to see you again, Colonel."

* * *

**I realize now that I LOVE reviews. XD**

**So please, if you bother putting this on your story alert thing.. type out a review if you can. **

**Until next time!**

**-BH **

* * *


	13. I have no father

**Wooot! Chapter 13! No warnings... yet. **

* * *

Pride stared at the man for more than a few moments before visibly shaking off the moment and placing the bottle on the counter. "Son?" He asked.

"Hohenheim-" Greed snapped from the doorway, his eyes on the older man. "He doesn't know. You're the one who has to tell him," He said.

Truth be told, Greed had only _just_ discovered the strange flat a mere stone's throw away from the Devil's Nest. Once he learned who lived there, well, the opportunity, to learn all the secrets that Dante locked him up for searching for in the first place, was too good to pass up. And too good to pass onto somebody else. Suddenly realizing he was lost in his own thoughts, Greed turned his gaze back to Pride, "I lied. _I'm_ not the one Envy would kill for telling you the truth," He said.

Pride stared at him. Hohenheim looked at Pride uneasily, then turned to the woman. "Anita, please occupy Greed while I talk to Pride," He instructed. In return, the woman, Anita, smiled and walked over to Greed, striking up a conversation in a whisper so soft Pride couldn't hear it over absolute silence. Before then, he would have guessed she was a mute.

Hohenheim pushed him through a doorway behind the counter, into another room in the back, and forced him into a chair that was so rickety he thought it might break even underneath his unusually lithe and light body. But, Pride settled into it uncomfortably with folded hands over crossed legs. Hohenheim dragged another chair to sit adjacent from Pride. His expression was a mixture of subtle excitement and hesitation, like the moment before you concede to a bitter truth. Pride felt okay, though, because everything since the moment he woke up for the first time in Dante's home had been a sour surprise.

"Do you know who you are?" Hohenheim asked thickly, as if choosing each word carefully.

Pride didn't understand, but his answer came quite easily. "Pride-"

"No," Hohenheim started, prodding Pride on the left side of his chest. "Who _you are_."

_What did he want?_Recalling the question he _almost_ asked Greed, Pride remembered he never got an answer. "No, I don't," Pride said, thoroughly irritated, shrugging off the contact and pretending as though the bony finger had not pushed against his chest. He'd expect a bruise to form if he wasn't some freak who healed within seconds of an injury.

"Edward... my son," The older man said, then upon realizing the bluntness of his words, stood up and turned away from Pride. Pride mulled over his words as he watched him pick up a vial of crimson liquid with shaking hands, only to set it back down without a moment in between, failing at his attempt to seem busy. "I'm sorry, that was a bit rash."

"Son?" Pride repeated, shaking his head. "I have no father. I have no one. No one was there, I just woke up one morning," Pride said, bowing his head, letting his blond hair fall around his face like a curtain. He debated over just standing up and walking out, but felt a pang of selfish guilt over interrupting the conversation between Greed and Anita. All he could do was sit there for a while, sit and hope the conversation took a lighter tone.

Hohenheim's heart sank. His own son couldn't remember him as his father through the homunculi haze. But, did he really expect different? The same had happened with Envy, as long ago as that was... though that had a slightly more violent result. He couldn't let that happen to Edward.

"I can help you."

Pride looked up and met Hohenheim's intense gaze. "Help me?" He queried.

Hohenheim nodded. "You don't have to continue like this, confused. I can help you feel. Like a human."

"A human. Like you?" Pride asked.

His expression changed, he looked discouraged, almost hurt. "No. I am no human."

It was impossible for Greed to smile. And any time he did it was a smirk and usually used against someone else in arrogance or defense. Anita knew, and it didn't stop her from talking to him.

"How is your hand?" She said, once they had run out of anything relevant to talk about and had begun small talk.

Greed looked at his left hand. The scar was still there; a ragged, pale line that cut through his ouroboros. It wouldn't ever fade, but it never throbbed like it used to. So he settled on a simple reply. "Fine," He said.

Anita averted her eyes, obviously distracted by something. "Have you heard anything of my brother?" She asked after a long silence.

"No... Nothing yet," Greed replied.

Her brother, Tobias, was with her here for a while, then he disappeared when the previous Führer died. Hohenheim told him Tobias was the one who would carry out the task of killing the Führer. He didn't say how, but it worked, and apparently Tobias was found and taken into custody... somewhere. All Hohenheim knows is he was taken by no soldier, but probably Envy, since the Führer was a homunculi himself. Hohenheim was almost sick with worry for a week after Tobias disappeared, more over the toll it took on Anita than his own guilt.

Pride was the last one to see Envy. Greed hadn't even thought of asking him.

They sat in silence for a minute or two. Pride didn't know what to say and Hohenheim looked as though he was embarrassed by what he said before.

"I haven't been human for three hundred years."

"You can't die?"

"Oh, I can die. And I have... so many times," Hohenheim said, and sunk into another chair. "I was in my twenties the last time I was truly human," He began. Pride leaned in, genuinely interested.

"It was a time when Dante and I were together," Hohenheim paused when he saw Pride's look of interest segue to utter confusion. He had to elaborate. "You may have noticed most of whom you've met had over-shot the average human lifespan by a few hundred years or so. I'm no different."

"How old are you?" Pride asked.

"_This_ body, is maybe forty or fifty years old, I've forgotten by now. But, my soul is around four hundred years."

Of all the things Pride experienced, this was easily the most unbelievable. "How?"

Hohenheim gazed at him for a moment, then reached into a pocket of his jacket and pulled out a red stone. Pride looked at it carefully. It resembled the stones he'd eaten in the past, for one reason or another, but it was different. Its iridescent surface reflected the flickering candle light that lit the room. His eyes even looked brighter when he saw them in the stone's gleaming exterior.

_What is it?_ Pride wondered, unable to avert his gaze. It was really quite beautiful. There was an alluring quality to it, and as such that when it was pulled away from his view, Pride almost uttered a protest. He stopped himself, though, knowing it would be absurd, as the stone did not belong to him. Oh, but how he wished it did.

"This is how I've lived for so long," Hohenheim said lightly once Pride had re-established eye contact. "Using this stone, I moved my soul to other bodies at the brink of death. It was difficult to live with. There's no way I could explain it in words."

Pride got the feeling Hohenheim was being a little less than humble that last statement. He had nothing to say. In fact, he wanted to hear more, but Anita walked in at that moment, and to Pride's dismay, Greed followed closely after her. Anita spoke quietly to Hohenheim and Greed paid them no mind, instead turning his gaze to Pride and flicking his head in the direction of the exit. "Come on. It's getting too late to stay here," He snapped.

Greed noticed Pride flinch in the slightest way and eyed him in confusion, then realized it was probably the abrupt change in attitude that caught Pride off guard. Greed couldn't blame him, but it was also impossible for him to give a damn at the moment. It was almost dark and around this part of town, he'd rather not run into a local, or God forbid one of his siblings, while his senses were at their worst. He turned heel and strode out to the front door, fully expecting to wait several more minutes for Pride to catch up. He hated being so paranoid. _Damn..._ He thought, staring down at his damaged ouroboros as he started tapping his boot impatiently on the stone floor.

Anita took a small bag from a tall shelf and handed it to Pride. He heard the quiet grinding of rock as he rolled it over in his hands. Extra unrefined stones, no doubt. "Just in case," She whispered, and gave Pride a wink. Pride was immobilized for a moment by her voice, but shook it off and followed her and Hohenheim out to the front room.

Hohenheim walked over to Greed and took up a conversation, one that caused the homunculus slight distress, Pride noticed. Greed shook his head several times, and then backed down after some enthusiastic hand gestures from the other man, nodding his head in begrudging agreement. Pride gazed sidelong at Anita, who smiled sympathetically. He looked back at the two men. Greed folded his arms and stuck out his chest confidently and spoke words that Hohenheim seemed to reluctantly agree with. They both stood there for a moment and sized each other up, but then relaxed and one of them waved Pride over.

"Pride," Hohenheim started, a hesitant look on his face. "You need to go back to Dante's home."

The suggestion hit him like a rock in his gut. "What? But, I ran away. If I go back now, Envy'll-" Pride began quickly.

"We know. But there's some loose ends you need to tie up before you can come back here,-"

"Or the Devil's Nest," Greed added bitterly.

Pride had his back against the wall here. What could he say? They had a point. "We didn't even speak much, Hohenheim. How could you know there were loose ends?"

Hohenheim gave him a skeptical look. "Knowing Dante _and_ Envy, neither of them would let you go easily."

Pride looked down. He was right. But what would the others say if Pride were to just waltz back into Dante's home like nothing happened?

"Besides," Hohenheim started again, causing Pride to look up. "The fact that you said little to nothing proves that you left in a hurry, leaving a few things and perhaps _someone_ behind, am I wrong?"

No... He wasn't wrong. "No... Fine," Pride finally said. "I'll go, but what do I have to bring back, and who's this _someone_?"

"Just stay there until something happens. And trust me, something will before too long," Hohenheim said, ignoring the second part of Pride's question.

Pride was about to protest again, but thought better than to criticize the older man's judgment. "...When do I leave?"

Hohenheim smiled gratefully at him and led him to the outside street. "Now," He said. Less of a suggestion than an order.

Everyone collected outside. Dorochet and Marta took their places out of the shadows and close to Greed, who left to stand several paces from the door, in the side street they took to get there. Anita stood by the door, leaning against its frame, and Pride and Hohenheim stood a few feet from her. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air... and then, "At least when you get back we can suit you with better clothes. You'll attract the worst of attention dressing like that for too long," Greed said, thoroughly mocking Pride's style, dangerously close to Envy's. Pride couldn't help but chuckle in return.

Anita was the next to speak to him, she walked over, light as air and hovered very close to him. Pride noticed now in the open air, where the musty odor of the building could not mask it, she smelled sweet. In the moonlight he could see clearer now and saw her skin was dark and her eyes were a deep red, something he hadn't seen before. He was almost lost by her presence again when she spoke. "Look out for a man with wings," She said, voice soft and smooth, completely adding to the effect of her haunting words.

"Can you manage your way back to the Devil's Nest once you've returned to Dublith?" Hohenheim asked.

Pride nodded and turned to face a cobblestone side street adjacent from the entrance to Hohenheim's home. _This should be the right way..._ Pride thought hopefully. He knew it was the right direction, but he really didn't want to hit a dead end in a place like this. When no one said a word, Pride decided it was time to leave.

He took a look back at all of them. "I'll be back in a few days," He said cheerfully, reading each one of their faces as he spoke. Hohenheim and Greed kept a stern decorum, but even Dorochet looked as though he was reluctant to see the homunculus leave.

As he ran away, he heard a "And cut your hair!" yelled from behind him, no doubt from Greed. Pride couldn't help but laugh, taking solace in the night air filling his lungs and the assurance he had somewhere else than Dante's place to call home.

Hohenheim watched his son part to a darker place, but there were more important things on his mind, like what would happen once Pride came back. He walked over to Greed, not bothering to lower his voice, since Anita, Dorochet, and Marta were already a part of the entire plan just by being there that night. "When he gets back, I need you to make sure he hasn't fallen too deep into his own sin, or else he'll be even more reluctant for the..." Hohenheim searched for the right word, "_help_." He said, "Even more than you were," He added.

Greed smirked back at him. "Sure," was all he said.

The three from the Devil's Nest watched Hohenheim accompany Anita back into the building, shut the door, and turn off the front light.

"Now what?" Marta piped up from Greed's right.

"We go back to the Devil's Nest..." Greed said, but the next words came to his mind with difficulty through the other things that were making him think at a hundred miles an hour, "And wait," He finished. Easy enough.

But to make sure a homunculus not get caught up in his own existence? That was preposterous, especially coming from a creator. Maybe the old man's soul had become senile over the few hundred years.

Though, as he always found it to be, it was _almost_ impossible for him to give a damn.

* * *

**Hope you liked that short little chapter! **

**As always, please review. XD **


	14. Betrayal: Part One

**Hey all! Black Haiyate here. Sorry for the delay in this chapter, but it was long and I got distracted... numerous times. So, here it is. But, it's part one of two, so I hope you like it!**

**Though, I rushed to finish this entire arc thing, so I may have repeated myself or used the wrong word, grammatical thing, convention, etc. Or I could have mixed up words, like the whole "I swear to drunk I'm not god." But, I'm sure that if it _did _happen, it only happened once. **

**So.. please forgive me if I did any of those. : D**

* * *

He hated this time of night.

It determined whether or not he would get _any_ sleep.

For several hours, Mustang had been laying in the bed of his personal quarters, a small room with only a bed and small side table off the side of his office. A poorly tuned "Ode To Joy" hummed from his throat as a way to soothe his rapid thoughts. He wondered how ominous it must have seemed for someone to sing to pass the time at three in the morning. But, every day he woke up at six, regardless of how much sleep he got, so why not pass the time of three hours with a little harmony?

In all honesty it was his anticipation for the next day that kept him up. He made an arrangement with Hawkeye earlier that day after the entire Central headquarters had been debriefed on the war situation by the Führer. Most soldiers hung around one another after the Führer had retreated back to his office. Most had looks of apprehension, others looked excited; Mustang couldn't decided whether he believed it to be young determination or a confident façade. A few even looked down at their hands casually. Watching them gave Mustang the impulse to look down at his own. There in his right palm were four, small, tell-tale half moon imprints. He hadn't even realized his hand was closed to tightly, and judging by the few other soldiers expressions, neither did they.

Bringing his thoughts back to the present, he noticed he stopped humming, and started once again at the chorus. He couldn't let the past, albeit recent, get to him. But, soon, he was thinking about that private who drove him to the courthouse on a whim. Thinking back, Mustang hoped he wasn't busy at the moment and hoped if he was he'd have enough sense to speak up, despite direct orders from a higher ranking officer. If worse came to worse, Mustang would have to clear up the confusion caused by the private to his superior. He hoped that wasn't Archer.

Mustang knew that kid had some problems. In his office there was more that the would have liked to tell the Colonel, but was too nervous to let it slip past his tongue. And that thing he said about revolution. Sure, it surprised the Colonel, but it also pleased him to a certain extent. It gave him a chance to see this private's true colors and it seemed this particular private could help him in what Mustang wanted to achieve.

Come to think of it, concerning the news about the Führer and his lackey, Private Laybourn seemed depressed. He was probably nervous, or hadn't built up the resolve to kill. Like Mustang once... in Ishbal.

There was no other place where he belonged, so, naturally, Mustang turned to the military. He wasn't trained long before most of the Central army was deployed to Ishbal to quell some rebellion. Truth be told, Mustang wasn't sure why he was going. But, before he knew what hit him, he was fitted with a side arm and, of course, his gloves. It was all he needed for the first few months of the campaign, then he was given a ring holding a crimson stone, and he discovered it gave him the potential to ignite an area the size of a few city blocks. And he was asked to, more than once. It wasn't until he faced an Ishbalan one-on-one did he finally find the guts to look into the eyes of the man he was killing. His enemy, a teenage Ishbalan, had the barrel of his shotgun aimed at Mustang's face, his olive skin caked with sweat, dirt, and ash. The Flame Alchemist wasn't in much better shape, shaking as he held his hand out, fingers poised to snap, aimed at the boy's chest. They remained like that for several long moments, before it ended in Mustang's favor; a chaos of heat and flames.

Mustang's eyes shot open again, after a near-sleep twitch erupted from his leg. He scowled and sat up, rubbing his head. He must have closed his eyes and begun to drift to sleep while he was thinking of Ishbal. At that moment he was grateful for the abrupt awakening. Thinking about such a thing before sleep was sure to give him nightmares, which he'd become impartial to over so many years of experiencing them, yet they weren't really something he welcomed with an open mind.

Deciding at this point he'd rather get no sleep than risk waking up late, Mustang got up from the bed and made his way to the door that led to his office. Considering he chose not to sleep in Central headquarters unless he had a lot of work to do and preferred to stay close to his office, he usually slept in his military uniform, minus the boots and jacket, which he kept by his chair. He walked over to a bookcase by the door and took out a thick book. He took it to his desk and donned his jacket and boots and sunk into his chair, sighing with contentment as he open the book and took out the flask of scotch that was hidden within the cut pages. The military would never allow him to have alcohol even in his personal quarters, but he could always hide a flask or two in the many books that no one would ever think to look in.

He untwisted the cap and tossed back at least half of the flask before he leaned forward, head in hand at the slight lightheadedness that came with the first drink of the... early morning. He scowled at himself for drinking, but he wouldn't refute the truth reason why he did it, except for the fact that it relaxed him a little from his prior thoughts. Another sigh escaped his lips and he got up to replace the book, his mind already on something else. He slid the book back into its place but didn't move back to his seat, instead he turned and leaned against the bookshelf, gazing out of his exposed windows from across the room. The sun wouldn't rise for maybe another good five hours, so the stars were still out. Maybe that was why he liked the winter so much. Not only was his alchemy relevant during the cold season, but the sun rose later and set earlier, and the Colonel hated mornings.

His mind wandered to the morning, when a little after six, when his staff woke up, they would come to his office and discuss the situation with Edward, or whoever he was now, and Mustang's plan.

His plan, if the spontaneous, traitorous scheme he'd thought up earlier that night could be dignified as such, was to kill the Führer before he left to command the war from the Northern Headquarters, a fortress that was heavily guarded and arduous to get to. He only had a month to do this, and to pull it off, he needed the help of his trusted staff and, fate willing, the Fullmetal Alchemist.

* * *

Pride looked up the slop longingly. Getting out of Dublith was the easy part, now was the several minutes of figuring out how to get back up the slope he easily walked, nay- _fell_ down a day or so ago. He _could_ use constructive alchemy, considering what he did back at Hohenheim's, it was possible, and probably the smartest option. Reluctantly, Pride lowered himself to one knee and rested his hands on the surface that served as the beginning of the slope and began to concentrate. It was arduous, as maybe several connections and calculations scanned past his subconscious every second. He opened his eyes again and allowed himself to lose control of his concentration for a moment as he watched series of hardened dirt steps materialize on the surface of the slope. They curved with the slope, which took a wide first turn and continued until it reached the end of the cliff face then took a sharp turn left, and retraced its path on a higher level. It continued like that for a good distance until it became difficult for Pride to follow it any longer. He wasn't even sure the staircase had completed in the few seconds it took him to watch them climb until the familiar alchemic tingle faded from his palms.

Pride stood again, quite pleased with himself, and made his way back home.

* * *

The private stood outside of the Brigadier General's office, shaking hand over the doorknob. He couldn't do it. With a sigh, he dropped his hand, and that seemed to quell the shaking for a moment.

There was _no_ way he could do it.

With another sigh, he turned to leave by way of the hall to his right when he practically ran into the man he tried to see a moment before. Archer stood strong as the private stumbled back after stepping on the toe of his boot._What luck... _Laybourn thought bitterly and snapped to attention.

Archer raised an eyebrow and looked down at his subordinate, almost cracking a smirk at his attempt to appear organized. "At ease, private," He started calmly, waiting until Laybourn was actually at ease before continuing. "That was my office you were standing by, right? Was there something you needed?"

"I wanted to request something, but, had second thoughts, sir, and..." Laybourn trailed off, leaving the non-existent end of his improvision to hang in the air. His superior's hand slapped his shoulder, almost making him teeter to one side.

"Come on now, back to my office. We'll talk," Archer said casually, and led the private back in the direction of his office.

Laybourn was pushed through the threshold first. He sidestepped to the left and was met by a man in a maroon suit standing by the window. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail that was secured by white wrappings from his scalp to halfway down the tail, which was a good 2 feet in itself. The man turned to deliver a chilling gaze to Laybourn, who was almost taken aback at the realization that the man was Kimblee. He recovered quickly though, and took note of the man's features. His cheeks were still looked slightly hollow, but no so much since the day before, and it looked as though the suit he wore hung off his frame from the emaciation caused by years of being in solitary confinement. Laybourn wondered how much uncomfort Kimblee suffered from everyday activity. Like the way he turned to face Laybourn, he was stiff, and winced slightly as his set jaw attempted to fake a smirk.

The whole ordeal seemed to last a mere few seconds, because Laybourn's attention was pulled from Kimblee to Archer, who closed the door and gestured to a seat in front of his desk and muttered something Laybourn didn't catch, but he nodded as if he had.

Archer took his seat, as did Laybourn, and Kimblee remained standing by the window. "So, private, what was it you wanted to request?" Archer asked conversationally.

Laybourn felt put on the spot, especially with Kimblee right there watching him, and wondered if he should come up with an excuse right there or go with the truth. Only the last moment before they noticed his hesitation would answer that. "Well, sir," He began, fighting the urge to break eye contact like he was trained _not_ to do, with _anyone_, let alone his superior. "I wanted to request a transfer to another officer's squad."

The Brigadier General sat back in his chair, making it creak. "I see," He contemplated. Laybourn watched him cautiously, surprised by the fact that Archer didn't seem thrown off by the request. "Whose?" Archer asked after a long silence.

Swallowing hard beforehand, Laybourn answered truthfully. "Colonel Mustang, sir."

Archer nodded thoughtfully, but his eyes gleamed with the look that told Laybourn he was stupid for even asking.

"I can... explain my reason, sir," Laybourn said. In truth, if Archer had provoked his offer, Laybourn had no idea what his reason was other than he liked the Colonel more than the Brigadier General, but of course that would never be an acceptable intention.

"There's no need," Archer replied. Laybourn almost flinched; the Brigadier General's tone lacked any trace of arrogance or futility. It was calm, right before he finished his sentence, that is. "Not to me, anyways. You're under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Zolf J. Kimblee now. You may speak to him accordingly," He finished, gesturing to Kimblee, who paused from manually straighting the front of his suit to give a quick nod in the private's direction.

Laybourn tried not to let it show that he was terrified, so all he could manage to say was a quiet "Yes, sir."

Kimblee walked from the window to the space to the right of the private and kneeled to meet his eye level. "I don't need to know the reason why you'd want to be transferred to another squad. The answer is no, private."

Needless to say, Laybourn was expecting that answer, what he wasn't expecting what came next. The Lieutenant Colonel planted a hand on the private's shoulder, leaned in close, and lowered his tone. "I know every soldier, every State Alchemist, _everyone_ has an egotistical side. Allow me to speak with that side, and I'm sure you'll embrace my decision," Kimblee said, and grinned, showing the almost inhumanly sharp teeth that iced the private's blood just looking at.

"Yes... sir."

* * *

Pride stared at Dante's home, "safe" behind the large tree with half circle shaped roots he called a hiding place. Could he do it?

He contemplated this for a moment, took a few deep breaths, and stepped out from behind the tree. He was only at the end of the massive forest tunnel, so the house was right there, just several meters from the small lake and the other trail that led to the concealed laboratory, like it always had been. But, he hesitated. What would he say? How would they take his return? Something in his gut told him Envy wouldn't be happy, and by now he'd learned to listen to that particular part of his body. It seemed to serve him better than his head, anyways.

"Hi!" A happy voice yelled to greet him from behind.

Pride stifled an impulsive yelp and turned sharply, to see a small boy standing before him, one cheerful violet eye peering at him through his curtain of unruly black hair. _Wrath_.

"You've been gone for a while!" Wrath, still yelling, informed Pride happily. "What are you doing out here...?"

Pride, grateful that the younger homunculus had lowered his voice considerably with his last question, decided against any excuse. So he started carefully. "I_have_ been gone for a while... and your brother is worried that Envy might be angry," Pride said, watching the boy carefully. Wrath grinned.

"There's no reason to be worried," He replied confidently, took Pride's hand, and started to pull him out of the safety of the forest with a surprising amount of strength. "Welcome home, Pride."

Damn. Every word that boy said sent shivers down Pride's spine.

Wrath led him to the home's front door and opened it. There was no one in the "living" room except for Sloth, who looked up from a book to stare at him. "Pride..." She started, but cut herself off when a couple less desirable figures entered the room. Dante, closely followed from behind by Envy.

This was it. Pride lowered his head, hoping Dante took it as some sign of respect, but was suddenly met with an embrace. "Where did you run off to, my son?" She asked, almost sounding hurt. So, Pride looked up, unable to return the gesture and saw her eyes wet with the possible forthcoming of tears.

Pride pulled away. Envy glowered at him from behind Dante, Wrath had run off somewhere, and Sloth stood up uneasily, watching the three of them. "I just wandered around the tracks," Pride lied. Hopefully they would accept that as a reasonable excuse. All three of them took it differently. Sloth gazed helplessly at him, Envy glared, and Dante changed for a moment, The change was subtle, but Pride could see something hidden behind

It was the first time he really felt alone in the company of others, and had to struggle to keep himself from running out the door again. When he was at the Devil's Nest, he was around a more tolerable homunculus and others whom seemed _friendly_, at least. Hohenheim claimed to be his father, and Anita, well, she was just pleasant to be around. That's all he wanted. To be in a setting where he wasn't scared, away from a place where his mind raced and he knew if he felt for it, his pulse would be hammering against the skin of his neck.

Luckily, Dante nodded and walked off, Envy in tow, but he stopped to turn to Pride. "Don't pull another stunt like that," He hissed, and stalked off. Pride began to doubt whether he should have come at all.

Pride stood in a daze, unsure of what to do now that he was back. He was suppose to wait until something happened, but that could take a while. He felt trapped, with no way of getting out unless he wanted to risk his life, and knowing Dante as his creator, he knew she could cut through the stones to reach his life force and pluck it from him right before his eyes.

Sloth stood and walked off, going upstairs. Pride did likewise, in hopes of getting a few hours of rest.

* * *

It looked like mud, tasted like turpentine, and the fact that it was only lukewarm just made the taste stick to his mouth like glue. But, it was the best coffee they could find in the Central headquarters. Colonel Mustang ran his tongue around the interior of his mouth, trying to dissolve the bitter taste as the rest of his company watched him uneasily, having nothing better to do. Mustang set the mug down, convinced that exhaustion was enough of a punishment, and looked at the crowd of easily thirty people gathered in the first floor's stock room.

To his dismay, Laybourn was not among them.

Shoving that thought into a dark corner of his mind, Mustang addressed the group. "So," He started conversationally, taking a moment to look at each face. There was his staff, a good number of soldiers and a few of higher rank, including a Corporal and Major that he was familiar with, even they looked back at him with trusting expressions, and he wished he could return them. This was risky, maybe _too_ risky. But, he had been pushed to his final limit, and it was either take control or let Central, and then Amestris, fall to ruin under the unorganized, corrupted rule of the Führer. No, Mustang knew his duty. And even though loyalty to the government was what kept the military together, it was the duty of even a single soldier to decide for himself where to draw the line.

"If there are any traitors in out midst, I suggest you leave now and refrain from turning back, because there's a special place in Hell reserved for the likes of you," Mustang said in the general direction of those who were not looking at him before. Personally, he wasn't a religious man in the least, but he hoped the threat hadn't fallen on all deaf ears.

No one moved.

"Good." His tone took a lighter mood. "Does anyone _not_ know why we're here?"

Again, no one moved.

"Good," Mustang repeated. "I called you all here to get an idea of how many people would help me."

Again, he looked over the crowd. Among his staff, there was Sergeant Bloch and Second Lieutenant Ross. Mustang knew Ross put her loyalty in Edward, while Bloch kept his loyalty with Ross. There would be no problems with them. They could even help him search for the kid.

"But, we can't do anything now. We have to wait. Wait for..." Mustang said, trailing off. He couldn't say what he meant to say, but his closest subordinates stared at him, understanding he meant to wait for the return of the Fullmetal Alchemist. "The right time," Mustang settled with, before the awkward silence dragged on too long. "Until then, gather information that could help us, recruit your most trusted others, do this all in secrecy, and don't say a _word_."

One blond soldier stood up. "How are you sure this will work?"

Mustang considered this for a moment. "I'm not."

The soldier gave him a uneasy look, nodded, then sat down. Mustang got the feeling the man felt it was worth a shot. A long shot, but a shot none the less.

"The Führer leaves in about a month. Kimblee has been reinstated into this military," He had to pause, because of a few gasps and murmurs among the group. "And we need to act before this Ishbal campaign starts."

A silence fell over the group and a few looked at each other, silently debated whether they thought Mustang made sense or if he really had lost his mind since Fullmetal had attacked him. The silence hung for several moments, until soldiers began fidgeting in their seats. Mustang realized it was useless to talk to them now, before his idea had really sunk in.

"You all can go. Thank you for coming," Mustang said, and waved a hand in the direction of the exit.

Most of them left quickly, all taking a look outside before the crowd piled out of the stock room. His staff left next, Hawkeye averted her eyes, Falman gave him a solemn nod, and Havoc patted his shoulder with a quiet, "Good luck, sir."

Mustang watched them go. He turned back to the coffee mug, picked it up and took a gulp of the bitter substance before leaving the room.

* * *

After a few hours of sleep, Pride decided to go wander around the lab. Since it was the first time he had been there, he looked everywhere and at everything. He glanced at every group of scientists, of whom he realized never traveled alone, and through the barred windows of every room, through the halls and stairs, _everywhere_. There were a few rooms though he wished he hadn't looked in. It was then he realized what this lab was for: Experiments. There was one in particular, though, that he saw last.

Pride wrapped his fingers around the bottom rim of the barred window and peered in. It was dark, though, so he moved his head a bit to let in some outside light. There was a human figure, sitting on the edge of a cot, but with one leg pressed to his chest, which he had one arm wrapped around, and his forehead resting against the knee. The other palm was on the back of his neck, with his forearm pressed against his ear.

Pride wondered how he could sit like that, how he could be comfortable. The man hadn't seemed to notice him, too lost in his own bubble he was visually trying to build up around him by shutting out sound and hiding his face. Pride fidgeted with the low visibility, moving his head this way and that, desperately trying to get a glimpse at the man's back.

There was a low rustle, the man sighed and stood up, stretching, all the while walking to the center of the room. Once there, he noticed the shadow of an obstruction in his window on the floor of his cell and turned his gaze to the door. Pride wasn't phased by the stare, he just wanted to_see_ the man's back. As if reading his mind, the man noticed the uselessness of his gaze and turned around in an attempt to ignore Pride.

Pride's breath caught in his throat and his stomach dropped like a stone. _Wings_. Two, full, gray wings unfurled from their spot pressed against the space between the man's shoulder blades. That's when Pride noticed this man's torso was much wider than any normal person's. He remembered what Anita had said, and then a name she whispered to him, so low that he could barely hear her. Somewhere deep in his mind, where a human soul still might've resided, he hoped this was who Anita told him to watch out for, he hoped he had done something right.

But, he couldn't remember the name. So... "Anita?" Pride asked quietly, seeing how the man reacted to the name.

As if struck by something physical, the man turned his head sharply and stalked to the door, trying to shove his arms through the window in an attempt to strangle Pride, who flinched, but fell short at his wrists.

"_How_ dare_ you speak the name of my sister..."_ He growled dangerously, letting his hands fall limp outside of the window, his eyes still glaring daggers at the homunculus.

Pride moved back closer to the window, both excited and scared to have found this prisoner. "I know her-"

"_Where is she?!" _He snapped.

"She's safe!" Pride started, trying so hard to calm the man down he almost tripped over his own words. "She's with... Hohenheim."

To Pride's relief, the man sighed and backed away, looking as if coming to terms with his more sensible side. His eyes traveled for a moment, as if embarrassed by his harsh behavior, but his expression softened, and he almost looked... friendly. "Who're you?" He asked.

Pride considered this for a moment. If he were to offer the name of a homunculus, how would the man react? He would much rather know the name of this inmate before giving him likewise. "I... I don't know," Pride replied lamely.

He shrugged, accepting the answer. "I'm... Tobias. How do you know my sister? How is she doing? What's going on?" Tobias asked, stopping himself before he overloaded the homunculus with questions.

"I met her with Greed," It was too late to wonder if this man knew Greed, "And.. she's fine, I guess- I'm not too sure what's going on, but... I need to get you out of here," Pride said and lowered his voice as a pair of the scientists approached him. "I'll come back tomorrow," Pride finished and walked away quickly, unable to look back, feeling a slow nagging regret under his skin over leaving Tobias so hastily, but he had to push the feeling down and keep moving though. He cut through the middle of the pair, who stopped to turn around and watch him walk away behind their masks.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! As always Please read and review. And get ready for part two!**

** (Also, hope your winter is going well, and remember to bundle up)  
**


	15. Betrayal: Part Two

**Part two Oh em gee.**

* * *

A few hours after the meeting, Mustang found himself with nothing to do but aimlessly walk through the halls, stewing in his own scheming thoughts. He helped himself to more of the coffee, at least it helped him stay awake. He thought back on the meeting. Armstrong was unusually quiet and Fuery was absent, which was odd, him of all people would be interested in Mustang's plan.

After spending the entire day in the office, Mustang decided to take a walk to the roof, where he could get some peace and quiet. There were a separate set of stairs that led directly to the roof, and he took that way, to stay far away from the Führer's office.

He opened the door to the roof with a creak and stepped outside. With a pang of quilt he realized he'd spent so much of his time away from his office he didn't know it had started raining. Raining hard. Moments after he strode away from the door his hair began to cling to the sides of his face. He turned this way and that, and saw the hulking figure that was Armstrong standing a few paces away, looking out over the city. Mustang wondered how long he'd been standing there, when it was already close to dark, and walked over.

He took a spot next to the Major, put a hand over the open top of his coffee mug and squinted through the rain shower. "What's up, Major?" He asked casually. Armstrong didn't answer at first. It seemed as though Mustang went unnoticed.

Mustang cleared his throat and handed his mug out to the Major. "Poison?" He asked, knowing the Major was familiar with headquarter's coffee. Mustang was rewarded with a smile from Armstrong, and at least the awkward moment was broken. "What are you doing out here anyways?"

"Just admiring the day," Armstrong replied simply.

"There's not much to admire if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you, sir."

Mustang grinned at the smart remark and sipped his coffee. "So, what do _you_ see?"

Armstrong sighed deeply. "Gray. I see gray, Colonel. The day is only gray, nothing else. I think humans are like that, virtually the same, one color, all focused on one objective," He said.

Mustang gave a sideways glance at his friend, quite intrigued with his dark answer. "I see," He said. "And what objective would that be?"

"Death, I think. I mean, beforehand we can be different, but we're all headed to the same end," He replied. "I don't mean to alarm you, Colonel." He added as an afterthought.

"You don't alarm me, Major. But, I do believe your sister thinks quite differently. She thinks everything is either black or white."

The Major grunted, then waited a moment before saying, "Well, what do you expect? She spends all of her time at Briggs."

Mustang nodded, smiling. At least Armstrong still had his way of joking around with superiors. Since Fullmetal "ran away" and returned as...one of those...- He shook his head of such thoughts. Point was, ever since Fullmetal left, Armstrong had been even more edgy than Mustang. Though, next to Hughes, Armstrong had always been like a father figure to the Elric boys, even back before Alphonse got his human form back. _Alphonse..._ It had been a while since the Colonel had checked up on the younger brother. With good reason, though, Alphonse had been in a terrible mood since the day he came to the Colonel's office. Mustang even assigned him two escorts, who followed him everywhere, to keep him from running off to play hero like his older brother always did. But, most of the time, he just stayed in his dorm and, Mustang didn't know, read? He would have to pay Alphonse a visit soon.

In the meantime, his priority was to his plan, finding Fullmetal, and maintaining his rank as it stood then. He suddenly felt panic rise in his chest for a moment as he wondered if anyone would find out about what he was planning. He would be tried with treason and put to death, for sure. No... no, that wouldn't happen. No one would say a word, right? But, perhaps he had gone about the recruitment the wrong way. What if a supporter of the Führer saw his collaboration filing out of the stock room? Well, there was nothing to do about it then. He would just have to hold his breath and hope his plan succeeded without a hitch. That wasn't possible. So the least he could hope for was few casualties.

* * *

The next day began with a sunrise unfamiliar to the colder months. There was a deck on the front of Dante's house that faced the forest tunnel. Pride sat on the edge of the deck, facing the direction of the valley where Dublith lay. That was where the sun rose, over the quiet town, reflecting off the lake, and over the taller, run down apartments. Pride swung his legs and watched the sun rise until the red-orange glare was too much to take, so he focused on the buildings below, delicately searching for the Devil's Nest or Hohenheim's home/storefront like a lost child. He didn't find them. Perhaps he wasn't looking hard enough? But, he knew they were there.

He hoped he'd make it away from Dante's alive. He _really_ didn't want to end up like Greed had, stuck in a cell for over a hundred years. How long did he say? No matter. He had to get Tobias and get out of here. Things were beginning to fall apart, considering the way the homunculi all spoke to each other, they were at the end of their proverbial chain.

Standing up, he let the last little strip of new sun rise over the horizon and bathe him in one of the only sources of natural warmth available during winter, then turned and made his way to the lab.

There was a stretch of forest before he reached the lab via a path from the back of Dante's home. Approaching the guards was his least favorite part of the trip. The gun, the masks, the ballistic vests... it leaves one wondering who's behind all that gear. Perhaps Pride would one day get to know them. He doubted it, but it was nice to dream of something other than missions and violence and the lingering feeling of taking someone's life, even though he hadn't... yet.

Someone pulled him to the bushes before he reached the guards line of sight, though. Pride rolled to his back and found himself staring into the violet gaze of Sloth, who pulled him up and shoved some red cloth in his arms. "Take this, and good luck," She whispered quickly, and shoved him back out onto the path. Pride stumbled, not sure of what just happened.

Pride tried to look back at her, but all he saw was a stream of water rushing back through the trees and towards the house. _So that's her power..._ Pride thought, and inspected the heap in his arms. It was a cloak of sorts, with a black symbol on the back. He wasn't familiar with it, but he felt some sort of immediate attachment to it, folded it back up and pressed it to his chest possessively.

Once he reached the guards, there wasn't any resistance to his entry. They just stood there as if made of stone, like they always did. Pride nodded to both of them, like he always did. He retraced his steps back to the winged man's cell and peered through the bars, letting the cloak drop to the floor.

"Tobias!" He whispered.

Tobias stood up from his cot and walked over to the bars. " 'Bout time," He said irritably.

Pride bit his lip, looking down the hall as he heard the sounds of another pair of scientists making their rounds. "They're coming. I don't know how to get you out of here, though." Pride said hopelessly, gripping the cold bars. He had to be quick. The sooner they were away from there the better, but at that moment, Pride was stumped.

Tobias turned his head to the voices of the approaching scientists, as though he could see them through the wall, and furrowed his brow in thought. "Follow my lead, kid," He said finally. Pride felt a hit of nostalgia from the pet name, the same one Greed used for him once.

As if on cue, Tobias buckled at the knees and fell over in his cell. His back hit the floor with a dull _thump_. Pride was taken by surprise by this and almost shocked the door off its hinges, but remembered the task at hand, it was probably an act. At least, Pride hoped it was an act.

The scientists had turned the corner and stopped to stare at Pride. There was no way to tell if they were the same ones from yesterday, since they hid their faces behind masks, save for their eyes. Pride began to wave them down, and they complied, meeting him outside of the cell door.

"I think it's failing. Better check up on it," Pride said, in the best emotionless voice he could muster. Tobias even threw in an agonizing groan for a good convincing effect. Pride had to keep from grinning, though it was hard to refer to him as "it".

Both men took out a set of keys and began to hastily undo the intricate set of locks put in place to secure the cell. There were seven total. Pride wasn't sure why such a security measure was needed, considering the brutal treatment Tobias had received, it didn't look like he would try and knock down the door anytime soon. But, each hand moved over one another as the locks unlatched and fell. Pride placed his hands on the scientists shoulders. They both looked back at him, and Pride sent enough volts through their system to stop their hearts, which may have been the effect. Their eyes, both green Pride could now see, grew wide with pain then rolled back as they collapsed on the ground.

Tobias was standing by then, swiping the dirt off the front of his pants and stretching his wings. He swung open the cell door and walked over the fallen guards. He rewarded one of them with a swift kick to the gut. "A little something to remember me by," He said quietly, though he could clearly see his target was dead. He looked at Pride, and gazed down the hall both ways. In the hall light, Pride could see he was dark skinned, despite all the time spent in the lab, and he had striking red eyes, like Anita. "We should go," He said.

Pride nodded and grabbed one of the scientists from under the arms and dragged him into the cell. Tobias did the same with the other. It was lucky neither of the men screamed, or else they would have more to deal with than a couple dead bodies.

Pride led him down the hallway, to the staircase, picking up his cloak before he left. The lab structure wasn't complicated in the least. They had one staircase to go up for a few flights. The only thing that could stop them would be the group of scientists that hovered in an enclosed cloister on the ground floor. There was one on every level of the lab, but they had bypassed those.

They reached the ground floor of the lab and Pride stopped to transmute a small, unnoticeable section of the wall into two knives. They were crude, but potentially useful. He handed them to Tobias. "Can you use these?" Pride asked.

Tobias took them, whirled one and slid them behind his back, tucked into the waist of his pants. "Of course!" He said, almost happily. He donned the cloak to hide his wings and they made their way around the edge of the cloister. Pride walked on the outside of Tobias, to shield him as best as he could from any wandering eyes of the scientists, but they seemed to be preoccupied by something else.

A scream tore through the hollow chamber and echoed off the walls. A scream that made Pride and Tobias look back at the cloister. Something they both would wish they hadn't done. Another man, younger than Tobias, dressed in the same blue uniform he had seen on that man he was sent to kill, was on his hands and knees on a red array. It seemed familiar, and the array bugged him, like he was supposed to remember what it meant. And his attire was proof that he was from the military in that city, Central. His head turned from side to side in an attempt to see, but he could not, and Pride noticed he had lost his eyes. Not an uncommon side effect to those the homunculi experimented on, Pride assumed, as the scientists didn't move an inch to help him, or looked concerned at all. They just scribbled notes and moved around one another to see and observe the agony of a dying man. It was hard to do, but Pride turned to walk away from it, tugging on the arm of his fellow to do the same. Tobias, at his side, moved swiftly as he unsheathed the knives and stalked into the cloister, inevitably attracting the attention of many an unwanted 'white coat'.

_Oh no... _Pride stumbled over even the words of his own thoughts as the gazes of the scientists looked up and locked onto the intruder. Pride sprinted forward and knocked Tobias to the side as one of the 'white coats' pulled out a pistol and fired several reckless shots in their direction, the others scrambling to get out of his line of fire. Pride absorbed the shots willingly and slapped his hands on the floor, sending a wave of electricity in a semi circle around the victim, killing all the scientists instantly. Tobias ran to the boy's side and grabbed the boy's chin with his hand, turning his head to look into the soldier's ravaged face. Pride swayed as the bullets slid from under his skin and fell to the floor with a silvery peal, like bells, that soothed him for a moment.

"He's dead," Tobias announced, standing up, apparently ignoring the homunculus' moment of dying bliss.

"Then we should go," Pride said quietly, as footsteps echoed in the floors above.

They left the cloister quite abruptly, and headed down the hallway whose only exit was one way, out through the front door, where the guards were stationed. Pride stopped before the door. "Aim for the neck," He said, without turning to Tobias, who he hoped could guess what he meant by that. Tobias, in return, gave a grunt of acknowledgment.

It was best to be calm in these situations, so Pride walked out the doorway, cutting through the guards as he did the day before, and kept his gaze straight and sucked in a breath before turning around. He watched as Tobias came up behind both of them and silently drove both knives into their throats, which were carelessly left uncovered. Both of them crumpled to the ground in a quickly accumulating pool of blood, and Pride exhaled a sigh of relief as neither of them got back up. Tobias glanced at him expectantly.

Pride, for a moment, thought of taking the trail straight back towards Dante's house and make a run for it. But, that thought was quickly pushed aside, and he ran to Tobias, grabbed his arm, and pulled him into the thin shelter of the forest. If they were fast enough, they could cut around the cleared out space where the house stood and come out somewhere in the middle of the forest tunnel, where Pride could find the road- though now a staircase -back to Dublith. He was thinking too far ahead now, unknowing of how long they were running through the trees before something beside him moved out of place behind Tobias and struck him down. He rolled for a few moments and realized something else was on him, rolling too. Only when his back hit the trunk of a tree and the rolling had stopped did he have a free moment to take a swipe at his assailant. He clutched a lock of stringy hair, and was rewarded with a stomp on the chest and a, "Useless bastard!" Envy's voice broke through a haze of pain and Pride was finally able to stumble into a weak fighting stance.

Pride took an unexpected sideswipe to the head and was knocked back to the ground, another explosion of lights dancing in front of his eyes. He wondered if Tobias was still around or if he'd run away. He was picked up, though, by his neck, and lifted off the ground, and his hands flew up to try and pry the hands off from around his neck, but to no avail. Then as soon as he'd given up, as his head throbbed from lack of oxygen, he was dropped and he could move again. He scrambled to his feet, looked around, and saw Envy standing in front of him, his head encased in a free floating sphere of water. His hands clawed at the sphere, but it acted as a forcefield, and Envy could not penetrate it.

"Go!" A frantic woman's voice echoed around him, and a hand grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the scene.

He and Tobias ran, around trees, over thick roots, hoping they wouldn't trip.

"Can't you fly?" Pride asked loudly.

"Don't you think if I could, I _would have_ by now?" Tobias yelled back, annoyed.

Pride exhaled a forced sigh and looked back, watched Envy die from drowning and regain life, and saw his potential savioress, the one he knew as Sloth. He turned back around to watch where he was going, and soon they were too far away to see anything anyways. They made it to a spot where Pride could see the break in the forest where the tunnel would be, and he slowed, listening carefully to the sounds around him as he led Tobias to the side of the tunnel, making sure they weren't followed.

They cut through the tunnel quickly, and walked the edge of the valley wall until they came across the staircase, but as Tobias began to descend the stairs two at a time, there was a nagging feeling in the back of Pride's mind. As though he had left something behind. He stopped at the top of the trail, and it took several steps for Tobias to noticed, who looked up. "Come on!" He said.

Pride swallowed hard and turned around in the direction of Dante's home. He had to go back. He had to find out what happened to Sloth.

"Just wait for me at the bottom. I've got to go back." Pride replied, "But if I'm not back by sunset, go on back to Hohenheim's without me." And he took off back to Dante's before Tobias could object.

Pride ran the length of the tunnel, it was something that seemed to familiar to him, and yet he wished it wasn't. He wanted to turn back, to forget this place and move on, but he couldn't. Sloth could be in danger, and the sick curiosity of what they did to her would eat at him if he didn't find out now. He somehow felt comforted by the trees rushing past him. It was a lame satisfaction, but he felt a freedom in his choice to go back, instead of the past times where he ran because he _needed_ to get away. Coming up to the opening in the tunnel, he hid a few paces away from the opening behind a large tree trunk. It was there that he had a clear view of the clearing out front of Dante's home.

It was there he saw the gathering of homunculi. He saw Wrath, of which he was grateful, because if he was out there, it meant he couldn't sneak up on him again. The others, too, were flocked around a kneeling Sloth. It appeared as though she couldn't stand, and there was a small collection of bones in a pile in front of her. He'd been told about this: Homunculi would find themselves unable to move when in the presence of remains of their former self. It was a scary thing to consider. Pride never stopped to wonder where Dante had gotten the bones.

Dante, who loomed over Sloth, kneeled down, and pulled out a stone, not unlike the one Hohenheim had. If he was thinking clearer, he'd have seen the connection between the two.

* * *

Envy stood over Dante, who kneeled in front of Sloth and rolled the Philosopher's stone over her fingers. "I'm afraid you've become too human, dear Sloth," Dante mused, her short, black hair falling around her face like a curtain.

Sloth couldn't move, but fear coursed through her like a hot liquid. It burned her, and she hoped for a quick end. She could move only her eyes, which traveled to the ground, of which if the dirt was brushed away, stone would lay there, and on the stone, a very intricate transmutation circle once painted, but never faded. Needless to say, a bit of dirt wouldn't stop a circle from activating.

"Are you sure we can spare her?" Envy chimed in.

Dante heard his question, but spoke directly into the eyes of Sloth. "Your life... is expendable," She said softly. Sloth couldn't so much as blink, but she felt hot tears forming in the corners of her eyes, a habit long forgotten since she'd woken up as a homunculus so many years ago. It was unfamiliar, yet she knew, she knew it was her sadness at her worthlessness to the only woman who had taken her in _almost_ as a daughter. It was a stupid act, she decided, to help a boy, instead of preserving herself. But, she immediately felt guilty for such a thought. It was a vague feeling at the moment, but from the moment she'd laid eyes upon Pride, known what he'd become, and saw what he once was, she knew who he was. Maybe it was his presence that had woken up the soul still suffering in the sin, but she _knew_. Who she used to be, it all came back to her, such a realization she almost couldn't hide it from the others, who were still ignorant to their truths.

That boy, Pride. He who used to be her precious, golden haired and eyed child. His brother, hers too, of whom she never got the chance to see in her existence of a homunculus. Her children, before she became something so horrid it could never be described as anything close to human anymore. She wished for the times she remembered, dreamed about, came to her like a forthcoming migraine. It was excruciating to see, unable to block out like a filthy image, to know what she had and how it was taken away.

_Her son_. The tears streamed down her face, despite her best efforts to fight them. She was given a choice, somehow, and she chose to stop fighting fate.

* * *

Pride kept watching, the sun was setting, slowly, and he hoped Tobias hadn't taken him seriously and already left. He wouldn't blame him, but Pride _had_ to keep watching.

He watched as the homunculi moved away from Dante and Sloth, in a wide circle. Dante set the stone down, slowly, as the grueling seconds passed, and Pride saw the ground under both of them glow with a silver hue. This specific circle caused Sloth to fight past the inability to move, but only to double over and vomit red stones, like the ones he'd been given at the Devil's Nest. Such a sight made his stomach twist and provoke the same action.

Dante turned to Envy, and apparently said something. Envy nodded, a similar silver light washing over his figure, and he'd became the image of a teen, somewhat short, blond hair. It was odd, Pride didn't understand why he'd chosen that form. In another deft movement, a blade grew from Envy's left arm as he stalked towards the suffering homunculus, took her by the neck, and stabbed her through the chest.

Pride clamped a hand over his mouth, blinked slowly, and waited for Sloth to regain life. She had to. That's what they all did.

Instead, she melted into the ground.

Pride suppressed a yell of terror as he stumbled backwards and got to his feet. He sprinted back through the tunnel, the cold air cutting at his features, still blinking hard to fight back any emotion. He had to get Tobias back to Hohenheim's. And he couldn't let any of them know something had bothered him.

The last little sliver of sun was still over the horizon as he almost tripped down the stairs, like he had last time, and made his way to the bottom, where Tobias stood, waiting patiently. He looked relieved when Pride stumbled over to him. "Finally! I'd thought you'd been..." He let the rest of his sentence hang in the air, leave imagination to guess the rest.

Pride took another look up the cliff face, looked back to Tobias and noticed his limp. "Hurt yourself?" Pride asked, in the most level voice he could manage.

Tobias chuckled quietly. "Oh, it's nothing," He said. "Did you see anything back there?"

It was like the answer was playing at the edge of his tongue, but he couldn't say the truth. "No, nothing," Pride lied, and threw his arm under Tobias' and around his shoulder, offering walking support.

"Thanks.. you don't need to, though."

"Don't mention it," Pride said flatly.

They began walking into the back streets of Dublith as the night settled in, and, once they were quite sure they were safe, chatted a bit.

"I'm sorry for troubling you," Tobias said.

"You couldn't have stayed there. Trouble was the last thing on my mind," Pride replied, though now he wished he hadn't of gone back the second time.

A few silent moments passed before Tobias spoke up. He asked, almost guiltily, but nonetheless playfully:

"Hey.. you weren't serious with the whole, "it" thing, were you?"

* * *

**Yeah... I'm bad at fighting style conflict.. so forgive me for the lame parts.. with the fighting.. and what not.**

**So, yeah. Review! Tell me if parts suck, or if they rocked, or how you felt about them. The comments really help... **

** 3 Later readers. **


	16. Untitled

**This is going to be quick...**

* * *

Anita hummed sadly as she washed the windows. The interior of the storefront was not clean, like everything else on the deserted street, but she felt compulsive about the windows, as it was the only way for her to see outside of their home. So much dust collected on the panes over the week she might have spent hours wiping them clean. 

The sun was setting, so she guessed it was probably only five o' clock or so. Scowling, Anita recounted her reasons for hating winter. It was cold. It was light outside for less than ten hours a day.

...That was it.

She began humming again, swiping over one spot multiple times with the now filthy rag she used for cleaning that day. Lost deep in her own thoughts, it took a few moments for her to notice two figures approaching outside. She swiped once more, to the right, and stopped, set down the rag, and leaned into the glass. The figures were definitely familiar.

"Hohenheim!" She called, without urgency. While she was almost sure who they were, she couldn't be sure if one was merely a disguise for the shape shifter, whichever one that was. Only Greed could ascertain something as easily mistaken as that.

As she dwelled on that last thought, Hohenheim and Greed took their places on either side of her and peered out of the window curiously as she did.

"You think it's them?"

Tobias' breathing had quickened a bit, as though their earlier running had only caught up to him.

"We're almost there," Pride said flatly. If he could tell whether or not Tobias was in any real danger, he might have asked how he was feeling, but for now he just wanted to get back to Hohenheim's. Back to somewhere he felt a little safer. The long road that ran straight to the front of Hohenheim's was the worst part of their journey. It was growing darker and Pride began to see every shadow move. He hated feeling so jumpy, and so without options that the only thing he could do was go back to Hohenheim and Greed and regroup. There was _no_ way he could go back to Dante's. Not now.

"Good. My back is killing me," Tobias replied, taking the arm that wasn't draped over Pride's shoulder and rubbed his lower back.

"Did they do something to it?" Pride asked. It was a stupid question. It was expected they'd beaten him, at least. The appropriate question would be directed to him, not his back.

Tobias hesitated. "I don't know. Probably, but I don't remember," He said quietly, then added, "That's a bad thing, isn't it."

Pride didn't have the chance to agree. As they approached the storefront, Greed met them at the door, and after a moment's hesitation, let them in. "Welcome back."

They heard a soft squeal and Pride was jostled away from his supportive hold on Tobias. "Brother!" Anita squealed, wrapping her arms around her sibling. It was more than nice to see her like that, considering how she'd been the last time Pride had seen her. She smiled, laughed, and her brother did likewise, looking just as happy, yet less inclined to show it as his sister did.

"So I guess I found the right guy?" Pride inquired quietly, only to Greed.

Greed, in turn, chuckled and said "Yeah, kid. You did alright." And they both stepped back as Anita led Tobias to one of the back bedrooms. That's right, he was pretty beaten up and needed some rest. Pride was suddenly even more relieved that he'd found him before it was too late.

"Did you find anything out?" Hohenheim asked.

"No," Pride answered truthfully, and upon seeing the disappointed looks of both the homunculus and his 'father', added more. "But, I mean, they're all really anxious about something... and they-" Pride quieted.

_Killed Sloth_, is what he was going to say, but he couldn't. _Why_ couldn't he? Instead, he looked away and scowled silently.

They noticed his discomfort and chose to not pursue the subject any further. "I can ask Tobias when he recovers," Hohenheim said. Pride was glad he wasn't pressed on about it, though something in that tone left him with doubt.

Pride followed Hohenheim into his study, while Greed made his way to the room in which Anita and Tobias were.

"What have you been doing?" Pride asked, peering over Hohenheim's shoulder at a small rectangular piece of glass, with a few drops of blood on its surface. He backed up once elbowed away as Hohenheim took the piece and slid it under a crude microscope. "Blood?" Pride asked, unable to hide the wary in his voice.

"Yes," Hohenheim replied flatly. It stung now, for the older man to be so short with him, more than likely from the lack of information Pride had gained from his last infiltration. He just bit his lip and watched as Hohenheim looked through the scope for several minutes before being spoken to. "I'm... sorry, son," He said, without looking away from his magnified view of the blood. "Since I've given up trying to figure them out philosophically, I'm trying a more scientific approach."

"And how's that going?" Pride outwardly ignored the apology. He accepted it, but chose to return the prior favor and moved on with his interest.

Hohenheim stood straight, sighed, grabbed a small notepad from an interior pocket of his coat and began to jot down quick notes as he began speaking, "Well... A homunculi's blood has a staggering amount of iron from all the stones they're required to eat, which would kill a human, and as far as I can see, they oxygenate their blood with copper, but their blood is still red..." He said, not at all surprised by the blank look on Pride's face.

"And this will help in your battle against them?" Pride wondered.

Hohenheim seemed to visibly ponder that question for a few moments, furrowing his brow and chewing on his lip. "Not at all," He finally said, tossing the notepad carelessly amidst his work space. Pride held his breath.

For several seconds there was nothing but an awkward silence between them, staring at one another.

"You said before I left that there was a way you could help me." Pride let the breath out.

"I did."

"Can you _still_?"

Hohenheim, having turned away from his son once the speaking began again, turned to face him. What a question. "Depends."

"On what?"

Hohenheim had personally wanted to deny him the "help", like a parent refusing their child some luxury. At first he was enthusiastic about it, but now, not so much. But, when introspectively considered, there really wasn't any excuse for Hohenheim to act like he couldn't do it now. In the long run, it would help Pride, maybe he would even remember Hohenheim as his father, and finally acknowledge him as such.

It was on that desire that he decided to give in.

"On if you really think you want it."

Pride began to protest, but Hohenheim quelled it with a wave of his hand, "Hear me out. I'll tell you what it is first, then you'll decide," He said.

Pride accepted the offer gratefully, but hung his head a little lower once Hohenheim pushed him into a chair and began what would be a long explanation of something he was already inclined towards.

"How's the hand?" She asked.

"You always ask me that, you know," He replied softly, "And the answer is always the same."

Anita sighed dramatically. "I guess I just worry."

For the last several minutes she had been tending to her brother, who was passed out on an extra bed kept for "company". She straightened and smoothed his feathers, applied antiseptic to his cuts, and bandaged his wounds, most of which were on his back and shoulders. As beaten up as he was, her brother looked as peaceful as a child the way he was sleeping, perhaps only the thought of being home allowed him to sleep without worry, or at least tuck his worries away for the time being.

Greed had only followed them because he knew the old man and Pride had to talk alone for a while, and the sin just loved to be around Anita. But, he hated that too. Such an emotion irritated him, so he also had to find some way to get away sometimes.

"Anything I can do?" He hoped it involved something somewhere else.

"Maybe... get some ice?" Anita requested with a curt nod.

"I wish you'd reconsider," Hohenheim agonized, holding the razor by one corner as he carefully poked his finger with another, testing its sharpness.

"No. This is fine, really," Pride replied quickly. He wasn't scared, just a bit nervous. When Hohenheim told him what needed to be done, the idea of the mutilation of his own ouroboros seemed a little unsettling, but nothing he couldn't handle, right? Still, Pride clutched the edges of his chair until his knuckles turned white.

"You'll notice the change shortly after. Since you have no real soul, you'll begin to remember the life of whatever resides in you, the soul of whoever you were meant to be brought back as, gradually. That's the hard part," Hohenheim said, with an air of warning.

"Why would that be hard?" Pride asked, turning his head this way and that, the anxiety from his anticipation creeping through him. His heart pounded so hard he was sure the sound of it could be heard by more than just the echo in his ears.

"Because you may not be prepared for what you remember. Think about it, a person who goes through horrible things in his life will experience it bit by bit. With you, well, it'll hit you all at once. But, it could help you with future encounters with Envy. You'll have something that he doesn't."

"What's that?"

"Humanity, mercy, something you can base your actions on. Now stop asking questions. You wanted this, so hold still," Hohenheim snapped, laying the cold razor on his son's ouroboros. _Horizontally? Vertically? _It really didn't matter. As long as he severed the symbol in the middle and not the snake from its mouth, he should retain the immortality until... until the human soul dominated the sin's aspect. It was a confusing process, and it had taken Hohenheim years to come up with. Pride wouldn't be affected by his remains, though he had none anyway, he would stay immortal as long as he kept eating stones, but he would feel emotion, a characteristic that up until now made the Homunculus so strong. Maybe the presence of emotion would make him stronger.

Hohenheim realized he was only stalling for time, and with a semi-stifled grunt of self-irritation, drew the razor deep down the center of the tattoo. Pride hissed. Hohenheim discarded the razor and quickly cleaned and began dressing the wound; it was the only wound that couldn't be healed with alchemy.

"How do you feel?" He asked as he tied the loose ends of the bandage wrapped around Pride's shoulder.

Greed leaned over the icebox, scooping handfuls of the frozen stuff and dumping it into a blue rubber container that would take shape of the surface it was placed on, which in the current case was a hand. Genuinely intrigued, Greed moved it around in his hand, just short of "playing" with it. He'd only recently woken up to what he would consider a new world, or at least one that was drastically different than his. A lot of things still surprised him, and with that, there was always a feeling of ignorance that followed. It passed, usually, as long as anyone around him who found it kind of _cute_ or _charming_ kept their mouths shut. Of course, the knowledge that he considered "common" (Usually involving material worth, theft, substance, and the affairs of the fairer sex) had come back to him as naturally as walking, not to mention his bizarre ability to control and lead others stuck as well. But, as far as new technology, he'd have to take it all in stride. Hell, electricity still puzzled him at times. _At least books haven't changed much_, Greed mused.

As he walked back to Anita and Tobias, ice pack in hand, he heard a clamor from Hohenheim's study. For a moment, he thought about continuing on, but he was curious. Had Hohenheim done it?

"Old man?" Greed asked, poking his head in the doorway, unable to wait for a response to the insolent nickname. "Hey!" He exclaimed, almost dropping the ice pack.

Somehow, Pride had knocked Hohenheim to the floor, his hands around his neck, with a believable intent to kill the man. Greed would have stepped in, but Hohenheim pantomimed an order for him to halt, seemingly unable to speak loud enough for Greed to hear.

"Y-you can... get... through t-this, son." He snarled quietly, as if challenging Pride. Pride, in turn, sank his thumbs deeper into his father's neck, the look in his eyes all the more intense. Greed watched helplessly at the doorway, leaning comfortably against it. Hohenheim, overcome by the effects of being strangled, and who was clawing at Pride's hands before, now slapped both hands on the ground either side of them. The ground rose and slid up and around Pride's torso as smoothly as water. It encased him to a point where his hands were forced off of Hohenheim's neck and his victim was able to escape the stranglehold, attempting to slide out from under Pride.

In a fit of anger, Pride raised a hand to swipe at his father, charged with his own brand of "electric" alchemy, breaking his bonds in the process. Another larger, stronger hand grabbed his wrist, the other hand grabbing his other wrist, as if the arms who grasped him from behind were crossed. He heard, "Now, that's not very nice." and in a split second, his arms were crossed over his chest and he was pinned down, the limbs twisted painfully behind his back. He growled both vehemently and pitifully, unable to organize his thoughts enough to convey a simple emotion. Instead, he thrashed his shoulders, only to be rewarded by a spike of pain shooting up his arm.

"Okay okay, get off of me," Pride whined pathetically, his mood shifting abruptly from violent to passive.

"Hell no. You started this," Greed replied.

They both looked up at Hohenheim, who stood and brushed off the front of his coat. "Normal, in my opinion," He said, placing his hands on his sides. "The sudden change too, I expect it's the window between his normal self and when he remembers old memories. No wonder he acted so harshly, he must have remembered something from the time I left my family--"

Pride didn't hear the rest of that sentence,-- though it wasn't certain to say he was paying any attention before-- because his head hit the floor and he passed out.

"Is this normal too?" Greed asked, as he stood up, untwisted Pride's arms and slung him over his shoulder.

Hohenheim shrugged. "_You_ did it."

"Great. I'm gonna go put him down."

"Sure, just tell Anita, she'll take care of him."

"I can take care of the brat myself," Greed said, almost defensively, yet jokingly.

"I don't doubt your... capability," He started carefully, "But, you have a bar to run, right?"

"So he can come back there with me. He had no problem staying there before."

"As long as he wants to, and you understand that he'll be recovering for a while," Hohenheim gave in, sighing. He had no idea why Greed was so insistent now. Perhaps it was his way of atonement, since he too, had been recovering. Come to think of it, Hohenheim hadn't asked the sin about his memories yet.

Greed silently accepted Hohenheim's terms and turned to leave. "What was your name?" He asked, quickly, before Greed left.

He didn't turn back. To someone else, that question would have been confusing, one might accuse the old man of being senile, but Greed knew, and he knew the answer. "Hunter, I think."

"I understand. You can take him to Anita's room now," Hohenheim said. He watched Greed leave, picking up the ice pack as he went, then silently mused to himself. He'd finally figured out the name of his old flame's lover.

"Hunter..." He repeated quietly.

Greed passed Anita as he headed towards her room, handed her the ice pack, and said, "Meet you in your room."

Once in Anita's room, he tossed Pride on her bed with about as much concern as he would give a rag doll and covered him. _He really needs to cut that hair..._ Greed thought irritably as he pulled up a chair and made himself comfortable, resting his chin in his palm. He thought of Marta and Dorochet and Law... wondering how they were holding up back at the bar. It had only been a few days, but Greed hated leaving his business in others' hands. It was Saturday too, so if he and Pride left early tomorrow, they could make it back to the bar on its off day, where most of their regulars went out in search of food or "company", whichever their fancy. Both of them could get some sleep, Pride could get some time to settle his memories, and Greed could fill the chimeras in on what's been happening, and vice versa.

"Hey you," A voice said next to him. Greed looked over as Anita walked to the bedside with a folded washcloth. "How is he?" She asked, placing the cloth on Pride's forehead.

"Okay, I think."

"I wanted to thank him for bringing back my brother," Anita said, smiling, as she petted the young sin's hair. "I just hope it wasn't too much trouble."

Greed bit his tongue. Both him and Hohenheim suspected there was something Pride wouldn't-- or couldn't-- tell them.

Anita excused herself and walked out, likely back to her brother. Greed watched her leave, then turned his attention back onto Pride, who was still passed out, though muttering here and there. Greed knew he wouldn't leave the kid until he woke up, and that surprised him; he rarely cared about_ anything_. And even when that _anything_ was his brother, it still surprised him.

It was those emotions that made the humans, chimeras, and whatever else he lorded over, so weak, so vulnerable, and so distracted. Now he couldn't mentally convince himself that he was superior to any of them as a being, as well as he could act the part. Though, he did still have that immunity to physical damage trick, perhaps he could exploit that for all its worth.

* * *

**Okay, so. I may be way off here, but I think it's been a long while since I last updated. So, I've been writing this for a while, and instead of continuing this part, I'm gonna cut it off here so I have something to update the story with. So... I put that last little statement as a closure sort of thing and sorry if it sucks, but I just needed to post something before I put this on hiatus or something. XD**** Hope you liked it at least! XD As always... review... criticize... anything but abuse can help.**


	17. Stop And Go

**Hey all... I wrote this kind of rushed.. I really wanted to finish it and I'm really tired, so if there are a few mistakes, you can point them out to me and I can fix them and repost this if need be. Or I'll look it over tomorrow and repost it if need be.**

**Anyways, sorry for the delay and I hope you like this chapter. XD**

* * *

The Brigadier General had apparently thought it appropriate to impose himself upon Mustang's nightly break. It was fine, though. Fine. Archer would have to do more than potentially ruin a meal to ruffle the Colonel's feathers. Hell, he'd be surprised if he was still the Brigadier General, what with all the promotions...

Mustang swirled the spoon in his coffee cup until he became numb to the clinking noise it made, regardless of how others around him felt. He'd decided not to eat that day; The stress of his recent work left him without an appetite. Instead, he drank coffee to keep himself awake. Actually, it wasn't stress, it was more... anticipation. He was excited for his plan to be put into play. But, he couldn't show his exciting as much as he would have liked to, which was at all. The Führer and his goons seemed to know what was going on where, when, and how many people were involved at all times. Somehow, Mustang might have gotten past them, but he wouldn't bet on it. They could have just been playing him all along, as though he was expendable only after they had used him, but what use would he be to them?

He downed half of his cup before Archer spoke, having sat there in silence for several minutes and unable to leave without saying something.

"You know, Colonel, there's no deceit in death," He said, with a mocking smirk.

Oh yeah, he knew.

"Very eloquently put, Brigadier General, though a bit blunt."

"I think you of all people here can appreciate the honesty in my words."

"Yes, sir."

Mustang hated using the formality for Archer. Not long ago had they been of equal rank, and now Archer had the power to lead him blindly into battle.

"Well, I should get back to my work. It was nice... to speak to you, Colonel," Archer said, standing up to walk away.

Mustang took a glance down the table, where the rest of his group watched the two of them defensively. They decided to sit away from their usual spot because of their particular dislike of the Brigadier General, yet close enough they could keep an eye on their Colonel. He looked back to the Brig. General, who had already walked away from the table, stood up, still clutching his cup, and followed him. He needed to see Alphonse anyway.

He left the cafeteria behind and shuffled along the corridor that led to Alphonse's dorm, which was very close to Mustang's office. The Colonel had assigned two guards to the teen, as he had recently become very unpredictable. The two made sure to follow him everywhere, and stood stationary outside of his dorm when he chose not to go out. Alphonse stayed in there during the day, only coming out usually to eat or go to the bathroom. Mustang hated treating him like a criminal, but it was the only thing he could do at the moment to make sure he didn't lose the other Elric brother. But today, hopefully today, the teen would tell him something he could use to progress in his investigation.

Waving the guards away, Mustang stuck his head in the door and called Alphonse out, who was torn from his captivation of a book Mustang hadn't the chance to see the name of. Alphonse begrudgingly obeyed, taking a long moment to push himself off his bed and followed Mustang to his office. "Do you have anything new to tell me, Alphonse?" Mustang asked casually as he sat down at his desk.

"Yes," Alphonse responded, much to the Colonel's surprise. "I was taken to the Devil's Nest. You know, that place in Dublith?"

Mustang nodded slowly, already feeling anticipation rise in his chest. This was the kind of information he could run with. Hell, maybe Dublith is where he could start looking for the Elric boy. "Well, what happened there?"

"I'm not sure. I was knocked out for most of the time. Greed spoke to me for a few-"

"Greed? That homunculus? I thought the military went after him."

"Maybe that's another lie they told the rest of you. Bradley was a homunculus too. For all we know, he would have wanted to finish off Greed for himself," Alphonse started heatedly. Talking about the previous Führer would get anyone upset, except for his loyalists. But, he calmed himself down and continued, "Anyway, he showed me a vial of my blood, and then showed me the door. The only thing he told me was he was supposed to take me while brother was taken by someone else."

Mustang stayed silent. Alphonse quieted too. Apparently what he'd already said was all he remembered. 

"I understand," Mustang said, suddenly standing. "I'll get permission from the higher ups... and hopefully we'll be on the next train to Dublith. Or at least, soon."

* * *

He might have woken himself up from his own overly peaceful breathing, or because he knew he was being watched over. He had his back to whoever it was, though, and he wanted to sleep more, so he evened his breathing and hoped he wasn't noticed.

"Finally awake?"

No luck.

Pride was relieved to only hear Greed's voice. Had he heard his father's voice, he'd have become overcome with embarrassment. So, he rolled over and stared at his older "brother".

"How long was I asleep?"

"Only a couple hours. We're leaving in a while, after you talk to the old man," Greed said, already getting up and out of the room.

Pride took that opportunity to settle back into bed and bury his face in the pillow. One inhale and he knew it was Anita's bed. It smelled like her: Some odd combination of wood and flowers, and it reminded him of one of his old memories: A woman and his real brother at his own home. A home he destroyed long ago. He groaned in frustration. What good were all these memories if they did nothing for him? All they gave him were headaches.

Greed returned then, with his father, and left the two alone. Hohenheim sat in the chair next to the bed. If he held any resentment towards his son for his previous outburst, Pride couldn't tell, as he was as calm as a man who _hadn't _been attacked. "Do you remember anything?" 

"Yeah.. a lot. I know I can't stay here, but I don't know what to do," Pride said, sitting up and wringing a bit of the sheets he held.

"You'll have trouble connecting personally with your memories for a while, but you should go with Greed for the time being. You can decide what to do after that."

Pride looked past the doorway where he could see a clear view of Greed and Tobias, who was up and around with a large amount of bandages wrapped around his torso. They slapped hands and pounded fists in some weird friendly gesture and laughed. "You sure he's reliable?"

"I know he doesn't look like it, but yeah, a lot more reliable since he altered his oroborous, like you," Hohenheim assured. "You and him are a lot more advanced than your siblings."

Pride didn't like being referred to as the sibling of those creatures, especially now that he was remembering his old life, he knew who he was, who his real family used to be. 

As his mind wandered on that thought, Pride got up and moved around, taking note of all the trinkets on the shelves in the room, two of which kept catching his attention: An ivory ring and a stuffed rabbit with one eye missing. He imagined the rabbit was something from her childhood, and the ring... well, he wasn't sure, but it might have been something given to her. 

"Say," Pride said abruptly, "Do you know who killed Pride?"

"I did," Hohenheim replied, without the slightest hesitation.

Pride wasn't so surprised either, so he traced his fingers along an empty picture frame-another oddity he wouldn't bother wondering about- and asked: "How?" Killing a homunculus was not easily done. 

"Oleander. It's a flower I found some years ago, when I ducked out of sight of Dante. I had it dried and took it with me when I came back here," He explained, standing up. Pride watched him walk out of the room, and then followed him a moment after. "It was Tobias' doing, really." Pride heard his father say as he met him again in his office. 

Hohenheim took a jar from his desk and held it out. In it was a thin-stemmed dried flower, with five wilted pink petals. 

"I took the extract from one of the petals with some of the unrefined philosopher's stone from that town you and Alphonse visited when you first went out on your own. Xenotime, right?" Hohenheim didn't ask his son to confirm the name of the town out of his own ignorance, and was happy to see Pride nod as he likely remembered. "Then it was put in the tea served to Pride."

"Tobias did it?"

"The man the Führer visited was an old friend of mine, in a private organization of sorts. The men in this group know each other only by their resentment, or hatred, of the Führer," Hohenheim explained, "That being said, yes, Tobias went to that friend acting as his servant and was the one who served the Führer his tea. Though, I was the one to send him there."

"Was?"

Hohenheim looked up from a desk he'd wandered over to while he was talking. "What?"

"You said _was_. He _was_ an old friend of yours," Pride asked quietly, unsure if his question would bother the older man or not. 

Fortunately for him, it didn't in the least. "Yeah, after the Führer collapsed, Envy killed that friend, and kidnapped Tobias," Hohenheim said, his expression unreadable. 

The situation in which Pride had found Tobias had finally made sense. They weren't keeping him just for experiments, they were punishing him too. "And you considered the risk? You even expected it?" Pride accused, already catching on. Before, Hohenheim didn't seem like one of those people who believed in the "greater good": Better to sacrifice one to save ten. But now, it seemed like he was the kind of man to risk someone's life to obtain a greater goal. Understandably, he couldn't have carried out the task himself, for most sons or daughters of Dante would recognize him immediately, so he had to gain trust with someone from the inside. It made Pride no less irritated, even given the circumstances. 

"Of course I expected it. But, what was I to do? The opportunity presented itself, and we, as an organization, acted on what was unanimously decided," He almost growled the reply, his patience wearing thin abruptly, from an open and comfortable statement about the death of his friend to a defensive justification of the aforementioned incident. 

"And Tobias?" Pride snapped. "Did you expect him to return to you? As a chimera, even?" 

"_I_ did that to him," Hohenheim said. Even as tragic as a confession, he said it with a strong voice and kept his gaze locked on Pride's eyes. "It was to save his life, mind you. His family, except for Anita, was slaughtered during the Ishbalan war, while I was there. Tobias had lost a lot of his skin in a fire from one of the alchemist's explosions and he would have died had I not tried something. Fusing him with a creature was the best I could think of at the time. The closest things to me were birds, so...

"He's a perfect chimera, Pride. He kept his form, he can speak, write, think, everything a human can do, except he's a chimera."

"And you?" Pride asked after a long pause. "What are you?"

Hohemheim looked up, his face flushed with his recent rant, "Me? I thought it'd be obvious by now... I'm a monster."

"Knock knock," Someone said from the doorway. Pride turned and saw Greed standing by the door, one hand clutching the door frame, the other pinching the end of a cigarette. "We should go in a few," He said ominously, "It's starting to get dark." 

It didn't seem like a homunculus to be afraid of the dark, but he might have just become cautious after gaining human emotions. And with any emotion, always comes fear. Like many people, Greed might not be scared, per say, but nervous of anything that might jump out of the shadow. Not for his own personal safety maybe, as he was well able to protect himself, but he never wanted to be followed as he went back to his bar or Hohenheim's place. 

Pride glanced over his shoulder back at Hohenheim, then slid past Greed without so much as a nod. 

They all met in the front room, which served as a store front filled with odds and ends. Anita and Tobias stood together, Greed stood by the doorway, Hohenheim leaned against the counter, and Pride stayed in the center of them all. 

"There's not much more we can do for you at the moment," Hohenheim muttered. Pride couldn't tell if his father bothered looking at him or not, because the light from the high point of the setting sun cast a glare off of the surface of his glasses. 

"We either wait for something to happen or go looking for it ourselves, that's what we do," Greed said quickly, glancing out of the door every few seconds. 

To save Greed the stress of wondering whether they'd get back to the bar in time for night fall, Pride moved closer to him as an implication to leave, when unexpectedly Anita took hold of him in an embrace. He returned it, as it seemed to be the polite thing to do, and no body seemed to care. "Thank you," She whispered, obviously referring to the rescue of her brother. Anita pulled away at arm's length and beamed. "Take care of yourself, Little Sin."

Pride couldn't even tell_himself_ he wasn't particularly fond of the pet name. 

As Anita walked to Greed to bid her farewell, Hohenheim ambled over to Pride, looking quite civil despite their recent argument. "You know... if you need anything, you can always come back here," Hohenheim muttered. 

"I know." Pride said, rolling back on his heels. And he did know, he knew he had found something close to allies in Hohenheim, Anita, and Tobias. 

Pride left his father's house for the second time in those last few days. Truth be told, he was glad he had a solid destination and a companion the second time around.

* * *

Marta noticed after the first few days that they were as alike as siblings. _Real_ siblings. Not in their appearance, of course, but in the way they presented themselves and how they acted when they weren't aware of it, like when they slept. 

There was a room down the hall from the main lounge. It had two couches and a few bookshelves, piled with books and booze. Both Greed and Pride slept there during the night, and sometimes most of the day. Greed had stopped his normal habits, instead sleeping or gorging himself with the red stones... or drinking. Pride slept most of the time, he really didn't do much else for the first day or two. Marta checked in on him every now and again, since he'd developed a fever, which wouldn't hurt him much, but she'd taken a liking to the young homunculus, like a mother-figure, almost. 

Sometimes the bar would be busy and Greed would be up and around. Even though he'd become fatigued, he still had to do his "job". Pride would accompany him sometimes. Needless to say, the fact that Greed had turned his back on his usual _companions_, paired with the constant sight of him and Pride had roused absurd suspicions, though neither Greed or Pride cared much at all. 

During these busy days and nights, Pride would fall asleep on a couch or chair in the lounge. Thanks to the rumors, he would catch the eyes of some drunk and weird individuals. Anything they tried was stopped by Greed, of course, which only added to the rumors, and had been unseen by younger homunculus. 

Marta, Dorochet, and Law usually kept things in order when the homunculi slept. Sometimes when the two took time off during the day, they wouldn't even sleep, they would discuss things over stones and alcohol. Only the chimeras closest to Greed knew what they usually spoke about, and what had happened to the both of them recently. To most, the incident seemed too far-fetched for them to understand, so they didn't ask questions.

Marta knew they still struggled with it though, since feelings were new for them. When she guarded the room they slept in, when she would sometimes watch them sleep, she would see them both fidget. Greed, on one couch, would show distress in the slightest ways, like a twitch or a mumble. Pride, on another couch, constantly rolled this way and that, like he couldn't get comfortable. She knew both of them had nightmares probably every time they slept, but they would hide anything negative feelings to anyone else around them. 

One particular evening, both of them walked into the lounge together. Pride had gone through something short of a metamorphosis recently: his hair cut short and shaved in the back so it still came down to his ears, thanks to Marta, and he'd been given long pants to replace his skort with, leather, like Greed's. He'd also been given boots: an extra pair of combat style the chimeras had lying around to cover his previously bare feet. He'd kept his shirt, though, not at all bothered by his exposed midsection. Greed seemed to be the most glad about Pride's change of wardrobe, as he had made it clear before: he thought Pride dressed too much like Envy. 

Greed went to his usual activities in the lounge, while Pride went straight to the bar to drink something at the counter. Marta and Law were close and Dorochet had gone out for a while- he liked to wander around their current stomping grounds frequently. 

All, or most, was calm, until a loud clamor was heard outside of the bar's main entrance. It sounded as though something heavy was thrown down the staircase leading to the door. It was raining hard that day, so they kept the door closed. The clamor died down and everyone turned and stared at the door, unsure of what to do. Law finally stood up and took hold of the doorknob and opened it, staying behind the door in case someone, or something, was waiting in the threshold. 

Against the cement wall adjacent to the door was a heap of something, bloodied and torn and unmoving, but _moaning _in apparent agony. 

Pride and Greed narrowed their eyes in anger, Marta and several others in the lounge gasped, both in surprise and horror, Law backed away from the door- his usual iron fisted composure cracked- as they realized...

It was Dorochet. 

* * *

**I_ really_ hope you liked that. I hope it didn't suck because of my lack of... you know... comprehension stuff that I usually have when I'm not tired. **

**Yeah... I think you know what I mean.**

**By the way, I think I should do one of those shout out things to my reviewers. The only reasons I haven't done it is... say someone posted a review for all the chapters except a few and I don't mention them.. I'd feel bad... and I'm too lazy. BUT, I'll try and collect the names of people who've really... either given me really nice, long, thought-out reviews, or those who've stuck with me since the beginning. **

**Anyways, I'll sleep on it.**

**And if you're anywhere near me, remember to bundle up because it's still so effing cold out in the mornings! **

**Yeah... tired. Night all. **


	18. The End of An Era

* * *

**-Sigh- I'm sorry this is so late. .**

**With all the things going on.. (Driver's Ed... projects... finishing Assassin's Creed (best game ever : )... closing the car door on my finger (Ow.)) I didn't have enough time to get this done in the amount of time I would have preferred... Oh well, at least I finally got it done!**

**BTW - I noticed my story was added to an Edvy community, not that I mind at all, but it's not. XD It was kind of in the beginning, then I decided to change the entire direction of the story one day in a Red Robin in Tacoma or something... anyways, yeah, I'm only mentioning it in the case that they wouldn't want my story in there... Anyways.. thanks for adding me. **

**So without further ado, here it is! (I hope I fixed all of the typos :x )  
**

* * *

When asked, the Führer wouldn't say where the Crimson Alchemist had gone. Aside from Mustang's relief over the alchemist's absence, it bugged him endlessly not knowing where he went.

Even on a train, already miles away from Central, it still bugged him. He should have felt safer. The train was packed, Alphonse dozed a little too deeply in the seat next to him, and all seemed well. Right?

Mustang shook his head of the paranoia. Since when has he ever been afraid of that sociopath?

Only a few times. And this shouldn't be one of those times.

Kimblee's subordinates were gone too. The difference was that they had been gone for a while before Kimblee, and when Mustang asked, the secrecy followed.

However, Mustang was thankful for all of the bustle in Central in preparations for the campaign. If it wasn't for the numerous distractions Hakuro had given himself, the Colonel wouldn't have been able to sneak away to begin his search in Dublith. It was pathetic when he thought about it- how scattered the military had become. Kimblee ditched momentarily, his subordinates disappeared conveniently, and Mustang and Alphonse snuck away, literally. Now they were less than an hour from Dublith and confident that no one even noticed they weren't around.

* * *

_"What if he comes after me?"_

_Greed turned from his doings at the bookshelf, glass bottle of some amber liquid in hand. "Why would he?"_

_"Oh, I only pissed him off again by taking off with one of their... prisoners? I'm sure this time they won't just leave me to return on my own," Pride said, sitting down on the couch he usually slept on during his off time._

_"Good point." Greed poured two glasses and handed one to Pride. "I guess when he does, you have to get away, right?"_

_"Why should I? What if he comes here? You're saying I should just run away?"_

_"That's exactly what I'm saying. There's a door behind the bar counter that will take you outside. If the situation allows it, use that."_

_Pride stared into his glass, swirled it around, and raised it to his lips. "Okay," He said into his glass. "I still don't see why it's so crucial for me to survive,though."_

_"Well you're remembering your old life, right? I'd think that'd be reason enough," Greed countered, taking in another mouthful of his drink and standing._

_Pride considered this as he watched Greed make his way to the door and open it. "Just think about it. And get some sleep, you look like crap," He said. He slammed the door shut with an over-exaggerated amount of newfound energy, and left the teen to himself._

_He rolled his eyes, set his glass on the floor next to the couch, and laid down._

_With the introduction of his sibling, with which he's shared the most similarity to, Pride learned to keep most emotions to himself. But even without the others knowing, he sifted through the memories he'd already exposed and searched for more, anything that he could use to get ahead in his new life, each time before he went to sleep. All he knew was he had a brother, who he was very close to, his old self was some sort of soldier, and that Colonel he was sent to kill was actually an ally of his. Needless to say, his concern was whether that Colonel would hold a grudge..._

_He was on the verge of his consciousness, the earlier events of the day had worn him out, and while he wasn't sure whether or not it was even night yet, he closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep, both hands resting on his stomach._

* * *

He didn't have much time to react.

By the time he heard the howl of that painfully familiar effeminate laughter, Pride had thrown his legs over the counter and grasped the handle to the door behind it, taking a look back. Greed had caught his eye and was glaring at _him_ now, as though he was angry that Pride had even hesitated.

The door led to a back hallway, maybe two feet wide, and as he slipped in, closed the door, and made his way down the small space, he heard a thud and the beginnings of a conflict between his two brothers.

"Where is he?" Through the door, Pride could hear his voice clearly, and he could just imagine the smirk on Greed's face as he replied, "Who?" But he couldn't hang around any longer. The concern for the others, especially Dorochet, hung on the edge of his concentration as he maneuvered through the small hallway.

Envy raised up the chimera by the front of his shirt, pulling him off the ground to eye level. Those around noticed with unease that Dorochet wasn't unconscious, his canine teeth gritted as he still attempted to move to defend himself, even though it was obvious he could do no more than flex his fingers. With a smirk from his holder, Dorochet was tossed several feet to land painfully at the feet of his boss, groaning pathetically.

Marta rushed to his side and tried to pick him up or drag him away, but he waved her off each time, clutching the ground in an attempt to pull himself back to Envy. Greed nudged him back with his foot. As uncaring as he used to be, he wouldn't let one of his more trusted underlings suffer unnecessary punishment at the hands of another, all over a brotherly feud. Marta finally got an arm around him and pulled him away to a spot where she could help him.

"Where is he?"

"Who?"

"You know who I'm talking about. _Where is he?_" Envy repeated dangerously.

"There's no one here but who you see in the room," Greed replied, eyes narrowed in a believable attempt at innocence.

"Greed," Marta interjected, with hands placed on the back of her comrade, who lay on his stomach and winced every few seconds, "His back, it's-"

"Broken," Envy laughed, his grin so wide it threatened to split his face. "Along with a few more parts of him."

Greed kept his composure, just inwardly hoping Dorochet would recover, though it wasn't likely. It wasn't likely any of them would get out of this.

There was a blur of blonde, black, and camo to his left, and green, red, and brown to his right. He turned right and watched as one of Tucker's chimeras launched itself at Marta, who, knife drawn, had lunged at Envy. The chimera missed its target and collided headfirst into the wall beside the bar counter instead. Of course, Tucker's experiments' were always... lacking in their general stability. Maybe someday he would get those right, but if what just occurred wasn't an accident, Greed wouldn't hope so.

Envy, meanwhile, who was no stranger in the least to fighting, might have sensed Marta's attack before it even happened. What might have been swift movements on her part were slow and predictable for Envy, who's age was all that made his abilities surpass that of their late younger brother, the last Pride. He had the chimera's wrist in a deadly lock, twisting it, while Marta squirmed to get out of his grip, the regret she felt for overestimating her power was evident in her stricken face.

He could wait no longer. Greed launched himself at Envy, one arm shielded and aimed at his neck. Envy threw Marta aside and posed to block the attack, but instead caught Greed's right hand and twisted it, trying to pin it behind his back. Greed let his arm twist, break, and snapped up his knee, planting a sharp kick in the center of Envy's chest. Envy was sent back several feet and managed to stay upright, snarling at he began to stalk back in Greed's direction.

He was stopped as a hand from behind the threshold grabbed his shoulder. "Now now, no need to get angry, Envy. If the brat isn't here, he isn't here," A calm, deep voice said, "Though if he isn't here..." A slim man in a crimson suit drifted into everyone's vision. "We'll just have to level this run-down hovel and move on, right?"

They stood facing each other, a mere moment in time would be the deciding factor of a feud going on two-hundred years. And chances were, as long as they've survived, this moment would not be the end.

The room went quiet. The drinkers went quiet. The floozies went quiet. The buyers, the dealers, the addicts, the over-intoxicated went quiet-- which was a challenge for them. Marta was silent as she massaged her wrist and kept her gaze, neither furious or fearful, locked onto the duo standing in the doorway. Law looked equally as perplexed, clearly unsure if acting would be the wise decision. Greed realized that, behind him somewhere, Dorochet was still awake, barely; Evident in his heavy and labored breathing, and the blood collecting in the carpet under his body, were the signs of a dying man.

"Yes."

It was spoken quickly and hardly audible, but the silence let them all hear him loud and clear.

Violet eyes narrowed and stared into one another. "You don't belong here," Greed warned, ignoring the implied threat.

"No. You don't belong here. And the sooner you realize that, the sooner we can quit playing this game," Envy said, "Catch!"

Greed froze as a small bag was thrown to him. He let it fall into his hands and instantly recognized the contents inside as fragments of his own bones. There was a surge of proud excitement flowing through him in the few seconds he let himself think he had an advantage. On second thought, he knew this was _his _chance, but not the chance he'd hoped for.

This was his chance to take the loser's way out. It was his time to stop fighting everything, to let things play out on their own.

Greed kept still, as though he were paralyzed by his weakness. He could move, but that would give him away. He couldn't let Envy think he had some advantage.

Envy paced silently, before a thudding of enormous steps almost made Greed turn his head. Tucker lumbered across his field of vision to stand next to the homunculus and his companion. Hidden behind those dark lenses, Tucker couldn't betray any emotion, but gave a very simple, "I'm sorry." He continued out of the door and up the stairs into the street.

Dorochet groaned weakly, dying, and his breathing became shallow and faint. As Envy and his companion turned their attention to him in a moment of sadistic satisfaction, the remaining chimeras took their chance to strike. Marta, Law, and Bido were the first to get knocked back. Marta hit the ground next to Dorochet, unconscious.

Law swung at the man with crimson eyes, but he ducked, and his hammer became stuck in the wall. As the chimera tried to dislodge his weapon, he stood and clutched his opponent's arm, a red light flowing in between his fingers as his eyes lit up.

Bido ran to Envy as he heard the sound of his comrade's arm burst, refusing to falter because of the gruesome image. He swung his reptilian tail at the knees of the homunculus. Envy jumped, shape shifted his arm into that of his brother's ultimate shield and impaled the chimera with vicious talons.

"Is that it?" Envy mocked, pushing the chimera's corpse off of his arm and moved about the room to finish his slaughter.

* * *

_"My brother..." The slim, blond reptilian chimera cooed over the broken soldier. His skin was cracked and glossy, and an old blue Amestris military uniform was split over his limbs. His fingers were talons, so he carefully turned the face of his comrade towards him. The eye sockets were completely hollow, but looked healed. The chimera let go of the head and let it drop back to its original position. _

_"Looks like they failed. He's dead," He said over his shoulder to a heavy set boar chimera. His voice had a thick, guttural accent and his eyes were cast down, distraught, until a hand clutched his arm._

_"Not yet," The young soldier said, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He turned his head, but his world was utterly dark. He took a helping hand from his brother to stand up as he began to get used to the feeling of the sounds around him taking place of his sight. "What happened?"_

_"You didn't see? One of the monsters broke out the winged one, killed many of the scientists, and took off. That gave us the chance to break out and kill the rest of them."_

_"No... Are we the only ones left?" _

_"No, no, brother. We all survived," The reptile said. As if in acknowledgement, a few others grunted._

_"Where do we go now?" One older man with spikes running down his backbone spoke up. _

_"The others chased away the monsters apparently," One with overlapping fangs and a sealed mouth said. It never opened, even when he spoke. _

_"Then we leave while they're gone," The young soldier said, "And return to the military." As he spoke, his brother slid a piece of cloth into his hands. After feeling it in his hands for a few moments he realized what it was for and blindfolded himself. He felt somewhat bad, he must have been a sickening sight. _

_"No," A voice said. They all turned to a smaller chimera sitting in the corner. He was hugging his knees to his chest. "We're illegal. If we go anywhere near the military, they're ordered to shoot to kill."_

_"Says who?"  
_

_"Hakuro. Who do you think sent me here? He's working for them..." The chimera said quietly, paranoia creeping into his voice. _

_But everyone knew he spoke the truth. _

_"We still need to stay close to them, we _are_ soldiers. Besides, no one respects the Führer anymore," The soldier assured, "And we need to stick together."_

_He didn't see it, but the young chimera nodded and stood up as they all regrouped. The reptile led his brother in front of the others to the exit of the laboratory. _

_"Tell me, " He whispered, "How did you fool me? I thought you were dead."_

_"Easy, brother, I can hide my pulse," He replied, "It's no _real_ ability, but it's something." _

_"And your wounds?" _

_"The scientists healed me quickly, before I bled to death, so they could continue with their experiment. I was awake long enough to hear them die by that pair that escaped, but I hid my pulse so I wouldn't be rescued. It was too soon, and I wouldn't have left without the rest of you."_

_He turned his head to the side, in an attempt to look behind him as his brother continued to lead him. "Stick together. Watch your backs. We find a way to get to Central and we work from there."_

_And in that moment, the young, blind soldier took lead of the renegade chimeras._

* * *

Envy let the last victim fall to the floor. Blood stained the floor, a few spots on the wall. The patron's faces were blank and pale.

Greed kept his gaze down, feeling betrayal creep along his conscience. It was a feeling he didn't like at all.

Envy let out a sigh. "It seems you've grown weak in your devotion to the trash you called friends," He said, almost looking disappointed. "Too bad. Maybe if you were more like the rest of us, Dante could've used you."

"What would I want to be used by that bitch for?" Greed snarled, breaking his composure. He threw the bag of bones over his shoulder and stood tall, letting his ultimate shield take form over his skin.

Envy's eyes widened. Clearly, he was not expecting that. He took a glance at the bones, _Could she have been wrong? _He thought. Dante had given him the bones, maybe she was mistaken in whose they were.

"Right, right. I forgot... your little.. grudge against her," Envy muttered, backing up towards the crimson one. He was nervous.

"_Leave._"

"Oh, no. I can't just leave you, little brother," Envy said.

Greed bared his teeth, "Then what? I told you I don't know where Pride is," He said.

"I know you don't, and I don't care. I need _you_ gone to get to him..."

Crimson smiled dangerously, "And I want to create some fireworks."

Greed's eyebrow tweaked in confusion. Who _was_ this man?

They both back up out beyond the doorway.

"You love this place so much," Envy started, as the other man grabbed onto a corpse laying close to him, eyes and palms glowing, "Then be buried with it."

The crimson one threw the corpse against a beam holding the ceiling and the two took off, as the corpse exploded and destroyed the beam, part of the ceiling, and the rest of the building came crashing down after.

* * *

Pride was at the end of the alley before he saw what he would call his home crumble to the ground. He'd been waiting there, sitting in the shadows with his knees to his chest as the cold of the evening set in, waiting for anyone to come fetch him should they survive Envy. But, it was clear now that none of them have.

He stood, feeling defeated, and made his way through the streets back to Hohenheim's place, hoping if Greed or any of the others made it out safely, they would meet him back there.

When he made it back, he'd had enough time to agonize over his thoughts, and slid through the door.

Anita and Hohenheim were in the front room, and looked up from their doings amidst the store front's scattered things. They both looked confused. "Pride?" Anita walked over, helped him into a chair, and leaned down. "What's wrong?"

Pride looked nervous more than anything and couldn't look her in the eye as he answered, "The Devil's Nest... Everyone... They're all gone."

* * *

**Hope you all liked that. :**

**Please C&C, R&R, and all that good stuff. **


	19. Confidence

Update?! Yes!

It's a very short update, just as like, a sign that this story is coming back. I have to admit the lack of reviews on the last chapter left me a little disheartened, but it doesn't matter anymore! I have to finish this story!

Besides, it's worth it because of the people who _do_ review. :B And like it.

So, sorry for the short update, another chapter will be up in a few days, and... enjoy!

Usual disclaimer.

* * *

Pride stayed for a week. Enough time to gather his bearings, get some rest, and discuss options. To him, it almost sounded like rehabilitation. Maybe it was.

The first night he did nothing but sit on the edge of a bed and think, his head in his hands. The others didn't bother him, to his relief. Falling asleep sometime during the next morning, probably around six or seven, all that occupied his dreams were surreal recollections of the Devil's Nest collapsing. Very tame nightmares, just calm enough to keep him hooked.

When he awoke again, he noticed someone had come in and covered him with a blanket, and was suddenly worried that he might have been talking in his sleep or doing some other nervous sleeping habit. He shook the apprehension off, figured if he had been sleep talking, whoever came in would understand.

The next few days were no different. Little sleep during odd hours, few words spoken to his father, Anita, or Tobias. Only on the last day did he finally sit down with someone.

"So.. they're gone?"

He wasn't sure how many times he'd gone over it, but he understood her disbelief.

"Yeah... Look, I'm sorry, Anita. He told me to leave if anything was about to happen. And something did happen... so I left," He explained quietly, hearing those words out loud make him all the more aware he'd look like a coward to anyone else.

"No... no. I understand, little sin." Her pet name for the homunculus.

"Why would Envy choose such a bold move? And what was he doing at the bar?" Someone asked. Anita and Pride looked up, seeing Hohenheim standing behind the front counter, a very distressed expression planted on his face.

"Maybe he needed something," Anita suggested.

"Yeah, like me," Pride said.

"For what?" She asked.

"I... I might know." Tobias had walked in, anxiety betraying his demeanor. Pale bandages almost tore as he flexed and impulsively stretched his wings. Pride caught the dispiriting sight of his left wing, a large patch of feathers missing, something he hadn't noticed before. Having more options before than he did now, he hadn't feel so hopeless when he moved in with Greed, and now being with the others, he noticed then how worn down they'd become from fighting for so long.

They watched him silently walk over and sit down by them, a quick glance at Pride before he stared down at his hands and sighed. "I was at that... laboratory... for a while. The other homunculi were boastful at times, walking down the halls, past the cells, talking..." Before he continued, Tobias looked around hurriedly, his gaze settling on a shelf. He retrieved a pad of paper and a pen, and continued, "They... spoke about your major city," He said, his hands working quickly to draw, "And a circle, symbols, words, all around it, made of a red haze, made by you."

"I don't understand," Pride said.

"You're the only one of Dante's children that can used symbolic alchemy. Unlike Wrath, the glyphs on your body allows you to defy the laws of alchemy. Wrath uses alchemy to change what's around him to enhance himself, to blend in his surroundings," Hohenheim explained, a little too quickly for Pride's comfort. He pointed at his son, "You, can create without destroying, destroy without creating, or creating something bigger, much bigger, than what you destroyed. That's why they want you. They want you to destroy that city and create a new philosophers stone."

Pride was calm, still unsure of what that meant. And so what? Even if they wanted him, he was safe, for the moment at least.

Besides, the homunculus was too distracted by what Tobias was drawing. When it was handed to him, Pride realized it was a lot more elaborate than what he had expected. There were only symbols drawn, not an entire circle, but there was no doubt about what these symbols represented. Latin was scrawled along the edges of a few, other phrases taking up their own space.

"Where'd you get the idea they look like this?"

"From what they told each other around us chimeras, they were very specific," Tobias explained.

Pride stood, crumpled the paper, and threw it back at Tobias. "Well they won't get the chance to use any of those," He said quickly, making his way to another room, continuing to speak regardless of if the others could still hear him, "As long as I stay on the run, they won't find me." He realized how quickly he was speaking, how apparent the sudden change in his mood was, how urgency compressed itself into a little irritating knot that pressed against his heart.

His old coat was still there, thankfully. He suddenly felt himself incredibly unwilling to part with it again.

"Pride..."

He turned, watching as his companions filled the doorway. It was Anita who spoke. "Where will you go?"

"It doesn't matter. I just have to get away from this house, get my trail away from you guys."

They watched as he slung his coat over his shoulder and proceeded to look over his tattoos, as if looking for flaws. "Not finding me at the Devil's Nest might have thrown him off, but I have to face him someday, and I'd rather that day occur somewhere else, when I'm ready," He continued.

"There's no telling when that day might come. What if you're not ready?" Hohenheim sounded worried.

"Then I just have to be ready every moment of every day until I fight him."

Sounded simple enough.

Satisfied with the condition of his marks, he threw on the coat and pushed past them. Only when he reached the door did he turn back. "You said I could find them in Central, right?" He asked Hohenheim.

The older man looked exasperated, but nodded, "If they don't find you first, that is."

None of them tried to stop him when he left.

There was only one way to leave, without so much as a goodbye to the others and exuding unreasonable amounts of false confidence along the way. Maybe then it would make it easier if they never saw him again.

Once he was farther away, perhaps reality would sink in and he would realize he would never be ready. At least not for what was undoubtedly soon to happen. A fight, definitely to the death, with Envy would not end in Pride's favor.

But if he didn't win, was there anyone else to stop him? Though it seemed either way, Central could be saved. If he died, who would complete the transmutation? If he killed Envy, who would organize the entire operation?

He _could_ die, and Central could still be saved if others followed and finished the job, but it was pointless to take a risk like that. And besides, the world had enough dead heroes.

Though he could hardly consider himself a hero.

The obvious conclusion was to stay alive, but kill Envy, to both ensure his sibling's plan would fail, and he would be around to prevent anything like that happening again, and provide some closure for himself. He couldn't deny his desire to experience his old life, maybe, possibly, transition back into it. Now that Greed and the others were gone, there was nothing left to stall him from going forward.

It all seemed impossible, but Pride recalled something helpful. Something he must have read in a book once in his past, a few words of inspiration:

"Believe and act as if it were impossible to fail."

* * *

A couple things:

I know the dead heroes thing was from Halo, and I don't own that either. XD I just loved that quote...

I'd love reviews, hell, I feed off of them. They are my sustenance, people! And they help me, obviously. My main problem right now is that this story is too dramatic. If it is, please tell me to tone it down, or suggest way I can tone it down, or where I should tone it down, etc.

Anyways, thanks for reading (if you got this far :B ) and I'll hopefully see you again in the next chapter!

-Black Haiyate


	20. Old Enemies

**Yeah! I actually posted something relatively quickly! A little more than a week is decent, right? **

**Anyways, I hope you like it. I can't provide much more of foreword than this, because I'm very tired. So. Yeah. Hope you like it, pleas comment, and I'll see you next time!**

**(Usual warning. Being there is none.)**

**(And I don't own FMA or anything related to it. :B )**

* * *

The Colonel and his companion, the younger brother, Alphonse, reached Dublith and headed straight for the Devil's Nest, which Alphonse had only half committed to memory. It almost gave the boy a bizarre sense of nostalgia, that place having been the last place he was taken to after his brother disappeared. Neither of them expected to find it in its present condition.

Nothing but rocks, dust, splintered wood, the subtle, but terribly recognizable smell, only lessened by the careful and complete destruction of the old tavern.

Officers were scattered about, dressed both in blue and gray, so some were likely from a close outpost, and others had come to the scene from an in-town station, as Dublith did not have its own headquarters.

One such individual, a soldier dressed in a blue uniform, greeted them immediately.

"Welcome to Dublith, Colonel." The young officer saluted and continued, "I'm sorry you were brought here on such unfortunate terms."

"So it would seem..." Said the Colonel. As his eyes scanned the scene, his demeanor faltered a little. The young soldier took notice and positioned himself in front of his superior, blocking his gaze.

"You seem surprised. Weren't you sent here by orders of the Führer?"

"If only... but, no. I came here on a personal matter," He replied, making a halfhearted effort to keep eye contact with the younger officer, but coming up short, still too distracted to really keep his eyes off of the wreckage completely.

Colonel Mustang abruptly pushed past the officer and made for the rubble of the tavern. Alphonse started to follow, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"My apologies, but the investigation is still ongoing, I'm going to have to deny those who are not with the military access to the scene."

Just as Alphonse took a breath to defend himself, the Colonel came back, grabbed him by the elbow, and dragged him along, offering only a, "He's with me." as his excuse.

They were let go, and they took a spot away from the commotion where they stood and stared at what was once their prime lead in their own "investigation". And now it was just a pile of rocks and fodder for the curiosity of the mainstream public, who began to collect around the scene. There weren't many people in Dublith, but enough to cause a stir, make them scared, and then pass the news on to friends and family in the other cities.

At least, that's what happened with murders, maybe this incident, once it got out it was an accident caused by "faulty architecture", it would only remedy a portion of their calm and boring everyday lives.

"What now?" Alphonse asked.

Mustang planted his hands against the back of his head, leaned against thin air, and sighed. Alphonse watched him carefully, realizing it was the first time the Colonel had looked so... _unconcerned._

"Well, we have to go back to Central," He said plainly.

Alphonse turned on him, "Why?! He may still be in town.. even if he's not... in..." He trailed off, looking back at the rubble.

"I don't think so. He's the type to run if things get too heavy," Mustang replied, folding his hands back into his pockets. He began to walk off, but pointed to the remnants of the old tavern again and added, "I don't think he's in _there _either."

Alphonse took another uncertain look at the ruins.

"Right," He said, dodging his way past frantic officers to catch up to the Colonel.

* * *

"He left a little... abruptly, don't you think?" Anita asked quietly.

They were all still standing around the door a few minutes after Pride left.

"We should be glad," Hohenheim said, separating himself from them, ambling back to the front counter.

Tobias glanced at Anita, who shrugged, before asking, "Why?"

"Because... He got back his confidence and we got back our only hope for our cities."

They both knew what he meant, they understood, so they dropped the subject. Instead, Tobias brought up something else, something a little more personally invested in the three of them.

"One night he was talking to me about it all, and the way he described how the Devil's Nest was destroyed, well, it sounded like an alchemist did it."

"Maybe it was." Hohenheim still seemed uninterested.

"Like the one who destroyed our village? Our family? What if it was him?"

Hohenheim looked up, held his gaze firm. "What are the chances of him even surviving the war?"

"Pretty good considering he could blast his way past anything in his way-"

"_Drop it._ "

"-And there's an even better chance of him making it back to Central, coming to this town, helping the other homunculi to find Pride-"

"Brother.." Anita interrupted him quietly, taking him by the arm and leading him back to her room. The two men glared daggers at each other until one could not see the other.

* * *

How long until he would have to prove himself against Envy? Would he be ready? Would he use alchemy? What would happen after that?

He'd gone over it all so many times in his head, what would happen if he lived through it or died fighting.

And his old life. He would have to wade through that mess just to get to the fight. Should he ask for help from people he barely knew, or even tried to kill?

Decisions, decisions.

Maybe an easier decision would help him: Left or right?

Pride stared at the brick wall in front of him, it split left, and it split right, but he didn't know which way to go. More like, he couldn't decide. How sad, he couldn't decide _where to go_ and he was already worrying about what he was going to have to do when he got there.

"Damn it all..." He mumbled angrily, followed by a very audible groan.

"Somethin' wrong, pet?"

Pride froze. That voice was agonizingly familiar. Turning slowly, he saw that there was not just one man following him, but three. The same three men that attacked him the first night he ran from Dante's. Dorochet was there that night to chase them off.

The one with the tail was talking again. And when he saw the look on Pride's face, he took a step back and held up his hands in mock surrender. "I was just jokin', kid. No need to get all scared," He said.

Pride relaxed just a little, still confused at why he was being so civil. "Why...-"

"'Cause the bar got destroyed, so's I figure all of us street rats gotta look out for each other."

"Is that so..." Now Pride was thoroughly confused. What a change of heart.

"Yep. So ya look like you gotta problem," He said.

"More like, _sounds_ like you've got a problem. We could hear you complaining from down the street," Another one of the trio blurted. Well, at least one of them spoke normally.

"Uh..." Pride began. What _did_ he need help with? "I need to know... which way to go to get to the train station."

"You leavin' Dublith?"

"I should go back to my home... now that the Devil's Nest is gone..." Pride wasn't sure what else he could say. It almost sounded like he was running away. Was he?

"I gotcha. Well, ya take a right to get to the train station. Hope ya find what you're lookin' for," He said, nodded goodbye, and the three of them walked back down the way they came, the leader's tail swaying lazily from side to side as he walked.

Pride watched them leave, both out of confusion and suspicion, before he turned right and made his way to the train station. It would take a few hours on the train, but he would certainly get to Central sometime during the night.

* * *

It was deep into the night, a few hours after midnight, and the siblings had kept awake, talking and joking lightly over candlelight as though they were kids again.

The flame flickered, Tobias and Anita were sitting across from one another at a small table set next to Anita's bed.

There was silence between them now, they had run out of old stories none too painful to tell and jokes that wouldn't ruin the mood, because Tobias still had something more important to say.

"I just know it's him, Anita."

"You don't _know_ that. It could have been another alchemist like him."

Tobias looked away. "I doubt it," He said quietly. Then he was standing up, throwing on a coat, and already to the door, moving silently, as not to wake Hohenheim. Anita went after him.

"Brother, come on! You don't know! Just leave it alone..." She whispered.

Tobias opened the front door, feeling a cold rush of night air roll over him, took a breath in, and faced his sister. "I have to find out. I can't stand sitting here if that man could possibly be in this town. I have to find him. He killed our family-"

"-But-"

"-He killed Greed," He whispered harshly.

Anita fell silent, looked away, and crossed her arms. Her brother had pushed a button that was never supposed to be pushed. It was a cheap shot, but it worked like a charm. "Fine."

He smiled sadly, they hugged, and he went out into the night like Pride had.

Anita closed the door and walked back to her bedroom slowly, to spend another night without sleep, waiting until the morning when she would have to explain to Hohenheim where her brother went.

_Who her brother went to kill. _

* * *

It was only by a stroke of luck that the train was there when Pride got to the station. It traveled all day and all night, but there was no telling how long he would have had to wait if he'd been too late.

The ride took a few hours, he slept most of the time, until a young woman in a skirt gently woke him up.

Now he walked through Central, lost, tired, and hungry. He didn't know where anyone lived, or if anyone cared to see him again. The only solace he found was a blooming park somewhere within the large city. It was deserted, obviously, being it was the middle of the night, or close to the early morning, Pride couldn't tell at that moment.

He'd come to Central for a reason. All of his priorities and battles to come, but it could wait until the morning, right?

Pride dragged his feet along the walkway of the garden, to a bench a little far from public eye, where he could sleep.

Sliding into a sitting position against the back of the bench, Pride pulled his coat so it held him very tightly and flipped up his hood to conceal his face from wandering eyes and the possible rain he might wake up to.

There was something that comforted him about being in Central, it made him feel safer. Being away from Dublith and the Devil's Nest made him feel less guilty, and being as bundled up as he could be in a park on a cold night, about to get a few hours of sleep, relieved him.

Hopefully when he awoke again, that comfort would still be with him.

* * *

**Thank you for reading. Please comment if you can. :B**

**Night all. **


	21. Memories

**Sorry for the delay! The looooong delay. Things have been busy. And this isn't a very long chapter, but if you're still following this story, it's not over yet, but it's getting close. :]**

**Thanks to all who've been following this and leaving reviews.  
**

**Also, hope you all had a great Christmas/New Years! Or just winter holidays, if you don't celebrate Christmas. :3  
**

* * *

He woke up on guard, feeling for his surroundings before he even opened his eyes. It was cold. It was dark. He was wet. Someone was talking to him. And touching him.

He immediately tensed in protest.

"Hey, wake up," Someone said. The voice was familiar, as though Pride had heard it before. Perhaps not him, but... _Edward_ had heard it.

Pride didn't want to open his eyes yet. He was still too tired. He felt something ice cold run down his cheek, hit his face like ice, and finally made him open his eyes.

Staring back at him was the face of a young man, his black hair stuck to his face, and the lenses of his glasses smeared with rainwater. He was familiar, all right.

"There you go..." He said, quietly. He took his hands off of Pride's shoulders and proceeded to push up his eyelids with his thumbs, staring into his eyes. "Yeah.. you look okay... How are you doing, Ed?"

"I'm not..."

"Right, right. Well, I have to get you somewhere safe," He said hurriedly, grabbing Pride above the elbow and pulling him up.

Before he could protest, the young man took off his jacket, which Pride could now see was part of a military uniform, and threw it over him, while quickly pulling him to a car parked some yards away.

Pride was warmer once they reached the car and beginning to dry off. Once he'd gotten his mind off of who he was with and how much of a bad idea sleeping outside in the winter probably was, he noticed what was going on around him.

Central happened slowly, like a headache, with the parks and small shops outlining taller buildings, wider paved streets, the night owls, and, in the center of it all, Central headquarters.

But they drove past it, and when Pride pointed to it, and began to speak, the young officer stopped him.

"You can't go there yet. Every guard posted outside knows your face, and the Führer has a bounty on your head."

Pride understood, and turned his face away from the window. Before he began to drift back to sleep, he remembered to ask: "What's your name, anyway?"

"It's Kain. Kain Fuery."

* * *

The Colonel and his uninitiated subordinate took the train back to Central the night before, making it back to the Headquarters by early morning. They avoided each other after a brief conversation in the Colonel's office, in which they discussed the whereabouts of Edward and, eventually, of Kain Fuery. They concluded it was tense enough around the Central Headquarters without the Führer-affiliated soldiers noticing the odd and elusive partnership between the Führer's most distrusted officer and the brother of the most wanted teenager in Amestris.

Colonel Mustang sat in his office then, tapping his fingers on his desk, deep in thought. Regardless of his subordinates efforts to keep his absence concealed, he had no time to give his thanks, not then.

_Kain._

The young officer had been given a leave of absence, unpaid, until who knew when. The Colonel had prodded enough information out of the present Warrant Officer to discover Fuery was released from his duty because of the documents he shared with the Colonel regarding homunculi.

It was all falling together.

The Colonel stood up and paced around his office, lost in deeper thoughts, until a knock at his door pulled him back.

"Come in," He called.

The door opened and his First Lieutenant stood in the threshold. Her face held an expression that Mustang had not seen before. It made her look younger and exhausted, the dark circles under her eyes gave her a shadowy vulnerability.

Without warning, she dropped her clipboard and ran over to him, wrapping her arms around him.

It was unexpected, and the Colonel found himself unsure of what to do. Console her? Return the embrace? He did return it, after a few uneasy seconds, he wrapped his arms around her, and she held tighter.

"It's almost time," She said quietly.

The Colonel froze, realizing what she meant only several moments after she said it. And she was right. Kain was gone, and many of the remaining soldiers were on the verge of going AWOL, as the Führer had created a restriction of discharges so close to a declaration of war. The amount of time they had before they left for the lands where Ishbal once stood grew shorter, that day drawing closer. Once Edward was found, they would have to act quickly.

* * *

The light from the sunrise flooded the upstairs room. It was an unusual occurrence for the winter months, usually the days would begin gray and cold. It was unusually warm, also.

Pride woke from an uncomfortable burning sensation along his back, turning over with a displeased groan, having to shield his eyes from the sunlight, and he realized he was in someone else's bed, although it wasn't like somewhere he had a bed of his own.

He sat up and looked around, seeing books and jars filled with dried plants and different colored powders. It wasn't unlike Hohenheim's place. And with that thought he had a pang of nostalgia, wondering how the others were coping, wondering if they were safe.

There was a loud crash from somewhere downstairs, like a pot or kettle being dropped. Pride got out of the bed and stood still, recalling that it was Kain Fuery who had picked him up from the park and experienced a desire to find out if that's whose home he was still in.

He went downstairs, discovering the home was a small apartment, a common residence in Central. Still dizzy from the fitful night, Pride walked carefully into the sitting room, where more books and a table piled high with papers occupied the space.

"Oh hey," Pride turned at the familiar voice. "You're up."

Pride looked at him and then looked back at all of his books. He even began shuffling through the papers on the table before Fuery spoke again.

"I'll make some tea."

Pride nodded absently and moved a chair over so he could sit by the table, suddenly very interested in the papers he found. There were notes, scribbled so sloppily Pride wondered if it was deliberate. There were also many transmutation circles drawn, a few he knew, and even more he hadn't seen before.

The teen was so focused on the research that he didn't notice Fuery's re-entrance into the room. He grabbed a chair and sat down next to Pride, looking over his shoulder as he slid a cup of tea towards him. "Anything you recognize?"

Pride shook his head slowly. "Not all of it. Nothing important."

"This is how I spend my nights now, just researching, hoping I'd find answers," Fuery began as Pride finally tore his gaze away from the papers and settled on another strange object in the room: a helmet. "I'd hope some of this would help me find you, we've been looking for you for a while, now."

As Pride stood up, he took his cup of tea with him, finding himself drawn to the smell of honey and herbs, and walked to the face of the bookshelf that the helmet was placed on, just staring at it. "We?" He asked.

"Oh yeah, the Colonel, and, unfortunately, the Führer and his subordinates have been hunting for you specifically," He answered.

Pride just kept staring at the helmet. It was a style he hadn't recalled seeing used in other models of armor. It had a row of flat fangs, slits under the eye holes, and an obtrusive spike sticking out of the forehead. A tail fell lightly over the side of the shelf from the back of the helmet. He stared into the eye sockets. The helmet bugged him like a bad dream he couldn't remember, which just might have been the case.

"Oh, that's right, and your brother, Alphonse."

The homunculi froze, his head throbbing momentarily as he recalled what he expected to be more of his memories, although he already remembered he had a brother.

But his memories started coming back farther from his past.

He was on his knees in a basement, his arm absent from the shoulder down, he bled over the chalk of an outlined transmutation circle. He was upset about something. Something gruesome. Something far worse than his lack of limb.

His mother...

And that suit of armor came to life with his brother's soul.

Memories few and far between filled in the rest of his life before he woke up in Dante's home. He saw himself among the homunculi, but it wasn't him, it was Edward. Envy showed him a red stone, like the ones he ate, only this one shone and shimmered, it moved inside as though filled with liquid. The apprehension was overwhelming, only exchanged with equally overwhelming happiness a moment later. His brother had gone from an unfeeling suit of armor to a real body.

He realized his brother's body later failed because Edward hadn't given enough in exchange. To rectify it, he gave himself to Dante and the homunculi.

That's where his nightmare had started.

And there, standing in Kain Fuery's living room, was where he remembered it all. Stunned, his cup slid out of his hands and shattered to pieces.

* * *

**Right. So. There you go. I'll try and get the next one started tomorrow. **

**Comments make me happy. :]**


	22. Conspiracy

**Well, I'm proud of this update. It's a decent size, hopefully answers some questions and leaves you hanging a little at the end, but I mean, I think it's been less than a week since my last update! :D**

**Anyways, hope you all enjoy this chapter, and there's much more to come. XD**

**Reviews. Make. Me. Smile. :3  
**

* * *

"Ed?"

Pride shook slightly, mentally trying to ebb away from the overwhelming revelations. When he turned to look at Fuery, he was blinking back tears. "I..."

Fuery was half-standing, steadying himself with a hand on the table. His eyebrows flicked up expectantly.

"I remember."

The young officer's head tilted. "Remember what?"

Pride's eyes looked around the room, as though looking through his own head. He was still blinking heavily. "Everything."

Fuery pulled back his expression, debating internally on whether he should be worried about the teen. It was a small change in his demeanor, a change Pride barely noticed. His eyes moved from Pride, to the shattered cup, and back to Pride.

The teen looked down at the cup, dropped to his knees, and began gently sweeping up the broken ceramic pieces. "Sorry.." He mumbled. He stopped after picking up a few pieces, feeling the tension from Fuery's silence, and looked up.

The officer just looked at him, a weird expression on his face, perhaps pity.

"No," Fuery said, snapping out of his daze, moving himself away from the table and over to Pride. "It's fine. Don't worry about it." He had Pride stand up and go back to the table. "We can worry about that later."

When they both sat back down, Fuery fixed his gaze on the papers laid out in front of him. His expression told Pride he was already hoping the teen knew about some of his research.

"So you remember everything?"

"Everything."

Fuery sighed, as though he didn't know where to start. "What happened... That day when you came back from the hospital?"

Pride looked down, scratched the back of his head, which he had almost forgotten he had it completely shaved, like Havoc. His head was going at a thousand miles an hour, as though everything he'd forgotten during his time with the homunculi, all the memories he'd lost, he'd gained back and then some. He knew everything, no longer suffering from amnesia.

"I was taking a walk with Alphonse and..." He didn't even have to struggle to remember, it was just emotionally difficult pulling these memories apart so easily. "...And he was taken, and Envy came, and forced me to eat some of those red stones."

"And that's why you started looking, well, like death itself." Fuery stated the question.

"Yeah, I guess it was the effect of the stones, to break me down until they killed me and brought me back, like... Like..." Pride looked down at his hands and arms, at the runes and lines that covered him like tattoos. "This... "

"Hmph." Perhaps the answer didn't satisfy him. "Do you know what to do?"

Pride looked up, confused.

"About Envy, about Hak- The Führer."

Pride thought for a moment, about everything he went through before he was turned and everything after, but he couldn't find a definite connection. "No."

Fuery shifted uneasily. "You know he called for a revival of the campaign in Ishbal. It should begin... in about a week."

Suddenly Pride knew. And it hit him like a ton of bricks. "He's trying to get the military out of Central."

"What?"

"I know he's trying to destroy the city. He's going to kill the citizens, you, me, everyone who opposes him, and create a new philosopher's stone, all in one fell swoop."

Fuery didn't look at shocked as Pride felt, but he spoke slowly, nervously. "Why does he need a new stone?"

Pride stood abruptly, pacing the room, one hand clutching his head as though his train of deductions might fly away. "Why not? He took Bradley's place, in every sense of the word."

The young officer looked down, he looked unsettled, nervous. "What are you going to do?"

The homunculus stopped pacing, considering his options. His conclusion, in the end, came all too easily. "I have to kill the Führer."

* * *

It was going to be a while before they reached their old places of origin. Luckily, most of them were from Central, and those who were from other cities preferred to stay with the group. So the journey might have been long, but the chimeras weren't scattered.

They regrouped outside of this "Dante's" home. Most stood around uneasily, shifting nervously as they waited for the assumed head of the group to give orders. This head stood somewhere in front, near the edge of the forest and the tunnel that would take them away from their old home and laboratory. He faced the group and turned his head every which way as though he could see, though the blindfold he wore proved otherwise. His blond brother stood next to him, gazing at them all as well and saying something, but he kept his voice low enough that no one else could hear him.

"There's so many," The brother said, turning his gaze towards the group head.

"Are they all from the military?"

"I talked to the ones who weren't already wearing a uniform and yes, they're all from the military."

"What has our government done to us, Dylan?"

The chimera seemed to consider the question, a shadow falling over his features. "They've sold us out for research, Marcus," He said. He sighed.

And indeed they had. All of the former test subjects had been generously "donated" by the Führer, himself. Bradley wouldn't have risked exposing his liaison with the homunculi, but the new Führer was either less worried or far more confident. Hakuro had sold out select few soldiers for chimera testing and passed off the disappearances as training accidents or illness-related deaths. There was always the chance that someone would check into it, and they would either disappear too, or the Führer just chose soldiers who were alone.

In the case of the Weeks brothers, the Führer had originally decided to donate one brother, Dylan, but realizing he _had_ a brother, gave them both to the homunculi to avoid suspicion from the family.

Marcus sighed, brushed a hand over his blindfold, gently feeling the small abysses left by the scientists. Then his disposition changed completely and the rest of the group seemed to notice.

"Brothers!" He called, attempting to get the attention of the group. His brother didn't say anything, so he continued, "Our government has abandoned us, but we can't stay in hiding forever."

A murmur rolled over the group.

"We could be killed if we go back there now," A young voice said from the back of the crowd.

Marcus Weeks tilted his head towards the voice, "You sound young."

"I'm seventeen, sir," He answered quietly.

Marcus frowned, genuinely saddened by hearing how such a young kid could be pulled into such a conspiracy. He looked in what he guessed was the direction of the kid and beckoned him over with his hand. "Come here."

He heard a shuffling and the sound of cloth-on-cloth as members moved out of the way. The young soldier stood next to him.

"We leave now," Marcus told the group.

His brother, Dylan, looked behind them with his now yellow, slitted eyes and scouted the forest's tunnel. "We'll go through the tunnel until we hit the railroad. We can follow it back to Central."

Marcus nodded, turned, and began down the tunnel, followed closely by his brother, the young soldier whose name he would later find out to be Casey, and soon, the rest of the group followed as well.

* * *

"So the homunculi have a mother?"

Pride looked up from his spot in the middle of the sitting room, a biscuit sticking out of his mouth as he sat crossed-legged and flipped through pages of a book containing the rumors about the first philosopher's stone. Although to him, he knew what were rumors to most modern scholars were actuality to him. "Mhm," He mumbled through the biscuit, looking back down at the book.

"And she had a home outside of Dublith for them?"

"And a laboratory."

For hours they had evaded the subject of assassinating the Führer by talking about Pride's experiences. It was all fascinating to the young officer, whose studies he'd taken so seriously in all the books he owned about alchemy and transmutation seemed to crash down around him as speculation and skepticism. "Tell me more about that." Though he didn't seem to mind.

"The scientists used soldiers as test subjects," Pride said flatly.

Fuery poked his head out of the kitchen, looking stricken. "Gods, it's because of Führer Hakuro, isn't it?"

Pride nodded, still flipping through pages and pages of artist depictions of the creation of the stone. Hohenheim's account seemed much different. "When can I leave?"

Fuery had gone back into the kitchen, the sounds of clanging dishes and running water filled the otherwise empty house. "I have to get in touch with the Colonel first," He called from the other room. "He's going to be surprised to find out you've been in Central these past few days."

_Surprised?_ Pride thought. _Sure, if he can get past my attempt on his life._

"How's your alchemy?" Fuery asked suddenly, pulling Pride out of his lament.

Pride lightened. "Very well. It's more powerful than before, for sure. I guess that's the only good thing about being a homunculus," He replied without thinking.

Fuery didn't seem to notice Pride's reluctance. "Just remember: Only use alchemy when you need to, do things on your own whenever you can."

The teen just nodded, swallowed his biscuit, and yawned.

"You can take the room upstairs again. I'll probably just work tonight anyways," Fuery said, walking into the sitting room, drying his hands with a white dishtowel.

Pride grunted a thanks and stood up, set his book down on the table, and made his way to the stairs.

He stopped, though, and turned back halfway up the stairs. He leaned over the railing, looking in the kitchen. "Hey Kain?" He called.

"Yeah?" The officer answered from somewhere in the kitchen, putting dishes away.

The teen hesitated, wondering why he had the urge to stop and say something, but the feeling like he wouldn't get another chance stuck to him like glue. "Thanks."

The sounds in the kitchen stopped for a moment, like Fuery hesitated, and then he said just loud enough for the teen to hear: "Yeah, no problem."

Then Pride continued up the stairs, onto the second floor at the top, in the shadows.

There was a knock at the door. Pride stopped, suspicious, and stayed in the shadows until Fuery reached the door.

When he opened it, Pride had to suppress a gasp. The teen couldn't move, could barely breathe.

Fuery breathed in sharply, took a few steps back, revealing Envy, who stood in the doorway, smiling devilishly.

_No._


	23. Endings And Returns

Hey all! Sorry for such a delayed upload (though speaking truthfully it wasn't much longer than the amount of time between my other chapters). Thanks to all who +alert or +faved my story during the break, and also those who +authoralert'd me! 3

Anyways, this chapter should surprise you, at least towards the end. I just hope it surprises you in a bad way. Hmm... I guess if there was any warning it'd be violence and a character death or two. Hunh, read at your own discretion. But, really, I hope you read it anyways. :]

Annnnnnnnd, enjoy!

* * *

"Why-?" There was a strangled croak.

Pride watched from the top of the stairs, hugging a corner, staying in the shadows. He didn't know what he could do, Envy was far superior to him, and if he let the homunculus get him now... It would all be over. So Pride kept watching.

Envy's grip on the officer was apparently weak, as it took Fuery almost no effort at all to shove the homunculus away and back up.

"What are you doing here?" Fuery asked, rubbing his throat.

"Hmm?" Envy cooed, stepping into the apartment and slowly closing the door behind him. "We've been following you, of course. Nothing in this city happens without our knowing."

"But-"

"And we certainly know when someone knows too much," Envy said, carefully cornering Fuery into the kitchen.

The officer and the homunculus went out of sight, though their voices still carried through the apartment, Pride didn't want to leave the shadows, but he wanted to see what was going on. He leaned in to the edge of the shadow and listened.

"You need to leave," Fuery said, rather sheepishly.

"Oh, I will," Envy began, "After you tell me where the kid is."

"I don't know."

There was a long pause. Pride heard Fuery breathe in sharply as a distinctive metallic _click_ broke the silence. And then: "That's a lie."

"No!"

Pride tensed. _Come on, Fuery. Do something._

"He's probably gone back to the Central military headquarters," Fuery suggested, stalling.

"He hasn't. We control that area as well."

"What do you want?"

"I want _him._"

There was another long pause and Pride realized he was breathing loudly, panicked. He slid a hand over his mouth and breathed through his nose, calmly. He waited for something to happen.

"_I can't help you,_" Fuery said quietly, the fear in his voice restrained and revealing a forced absolution.

The shot rang out like a crack of thunder. Pride flinched violently, covered his ears with his hands and tried not to make a sound. The action was so sudden that Pride was caught off guard and his eyes began welling up with tears from the uncertainty of the outcome. Was he dead? Was it a warning shot?

When he lowered his hands, he heard Envy hiss from the recoil and drop the weapon in irritation.

"Never liked those things..." He mumbled as he walked out of the kitchen, opened the front door, and left, closing the door just as carefully as he had only a few minutes before.

Pride waited for a few moments. He waited until he was sure Envy wouldn't come back before he ripped himself from his spot frozen in the shadows and made his way down the stairs. There was a clamber in the kitchen and the sound of labored breathing.

The homunculus looked around the corner into the kitchen and watched as the officer tried to pull himself up by clinging to the edge of the counter. Fuery's hand slipped in a small pool of blood and he fell back down.

"Easy!" Pride said, rushing to his host's side.

Fuery had been hit, but it would take him longer to die thanks to Envy being a horrible shot. At least it gave them some time to exchange last words. The officer touched his side and pulled his hand back, covered in blood. He watched the blood drip as though he was in a dream. His eyes were glazed and his head bobbed a little.

Pride put a hand on Fuery's shoulder to get his attention. The officer looked up at him bleakly. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Oh, no. No, this is my-"

Fuery stopped him with a gesture, "Not enough time..." He pointed to the table in the sitting room. "Take whatever you need and get out while you can." His voice had grown quiet and Pride had to lean in to hear him.

The young officer closed his eyes, and though he was still breathing, the homunculus could tell he wouldn't respond again.

As a gesture of respect, Pride smoothed the officer's jacket – which he kept from the military – and brushed the hair out of his eyes before standing with a heavy sigh.

On the table were many drawings and notes, Pride wasn't sure if he should take them, or if he could use any of it, but suddenly one drawing caught his eye – a replica of an elaborate transmutation circle. Pride could've sworn he'd seen it before, but at the moment, he couldn't remember. He folded it up and stuck it in his pocket, once again grateful that he'd gotten rid of the skirt.

Pride passed through the kitchen a second time to leave the apartment, glancing back at the young officer, who had stopped breathing, and kept going, opening the door and locking it behind him.

* * *

The air was cold in Dublith. Tobias shuddered as he walked the streets, flexing his wings as he tried to gather warmth. The chimera knew the alchemist was still in the town, he could _feel_ his presence.

He wandered near the remains of the Devil's Nest. Only a few soldiers stood near the ruins, as they were obviously the night guards. The officers that oversaw the investigation and cleanup of the destroyed bar were nervous that looters or hoodlums might mess with the ruins.

Tobias easily maneuvered around the ruins and the soldiers, making his way down a different street, folding his way into one of the town's many alleyway neighborhoods. He walked past every dead end, looking down the streets. Tobias knew the alchemist would be somewhere where he could catch the chimera off guard, somewhere where he could corner the chimera. And the chimera was deliberately walking right into his trap.

He walked past a certain dead end, where a wooden fence met between two buildings and cut off the road. He stopped in his tracks after a flash of blue flared in his peripheral. A military coat hung off one of the tips of the wooden fence. A flag of challenge.

"Alright," Tobias muttered, turning to face the alley. "Where are you..."

Slowly, cautiously, he walked into the alley, up to the fence, and snatched the coat from its snag.

"It's been a _long_ time." A cold voice said from behind him.

When he turned, he saw a tall, gaunt figure, whose face hadn't changed since the chimera last saw him. His dark hair was pulled back into a long ponytail and his eyes were sparkling devilishly.

"Why... the last time I saw you, you were this-" He lowered his right hand to just above his knee, "-small."

Tobias knew his meaning in their cruel conversation. The last time they met was during the Ishbal campaign, when Tobias, and Anita, were both very young. As a result of their meeting, the siblings were the only surviving members of their family.

"We're going to settle this. Now," Tobias said.

"Or you can give me that ring of yours and we can go about our lives."

Tobias clenched his right hand into a fist, the ring on his middle finger barely glinted in the moonlight. It was a red stone set in a metal base, the core of the stone shifted like liquid. A philosophers stone, or, at least, Kimblee would think so. "You're wrong. You'd kill me anyway for the thrill of it."

Kimblee watched him for a long moment. "Probably." The alchemist tossed a stone between his hands, a small aura of red light generated around it, growing in strength as he passed it from hand to hand. Suddenly, he threw it to the ground by Tobias' feet.

The chimera jumped back as the thing exploded. He turned, and scrambled onto a pile of crates, using the height of the debris to claw his way up the side of a building, just far enough to jump to a fire escape ladder and climb up to the roof. His wings couldn't make him fly, but they gave him leverage and reduced the speed at which he fell.

He looked back over the edge of the building, watching as smoke billowed from a small crater in the ground where the rock had exploded. Kimblee was gone.

He stood up and walked around in a backwards circle. The alchemist wouldn't have run away, so he must have been trying to find a way to get up to where Tobias was. Even if he couldn't see him, the chimera was making sure he didn't have his back open for too long in any one direction.

It was silent except for the sound of his footsteps padding along quickly in a circle and quieter background ambiance. He stopped when a few moments passed and he heard nothing.

"You want this ring, don't you?" Tobias asked the silence. "Then _attack_ me!"

As if on cue, he heard a small _whooshing_ sound above him and looked up. A shower of stones were sailing over his head, landing like hail on the rooftop, exploding one after another like small bombs as they connected with the roof.

The chimera dodged the stones, stepping back and forth, in erratic movement, hoping to avoid the stones by chance. It reminded him of a time after his family was killed, before Hohenheim adopted him and his sister, when they lived on the streets and passing soldiers would antagonize them by shooting at their feet.

The alchemist followed in pursuit shortly after the explosions stopped. Tobias hurled himself over a gap between two buildings, landing hard on the other side and stumbling a bit. He wasn't used to running so fast or jumping that far. His ankles burned from the shock of impact.

_Keep going!_ He willed himself.

Kimblee had appeared beside him, running in time with the chimera and jumping gaps with him. Eventually they reached a gap too large to jump and stopped, facing each other.

"The ring..." Kimblee beckoned.

Tobias shook his head. "Over my dead body."

Another long pause passed before Kimblee made his move. His foot shifted slightly and he pushed off, launching himself towards the chimera, arms back before he came in close and pushed forward into Tobias' shoulder and chest, knocking him down.

The slim alchemist overpowered him with surprising force, despite the drastic weight difference between them. The chimera grabbed his arms near the elbows and planted a foot against his chest, using his leg as leverage to push the alchemist up and over and dangerously close to the edge of the building.

Kimblee, while struggling to regain the breath that had been knocked out of him, rolled over the edge and hung on by his fingertips. Tobias stepped on his fingers, hard enough to hopefully make him let go. Though the fall wouldn't kill him, it would probably incapacitate him long enough to give Tobias the upper hand.

Instead of letting go, the alchemist tore his right hand from under Tobias' foot and grabbed his ankle. Tobias barely had enough time to watch the alchemist's hand glow red before another explosion ruptured his left leg up to just below the knee.

The chimera cried out in pain as he stumbled and fell flat on his back, blood pouring from his destroyed leg. The alchemist was already pulling himself back onto the roof, not at all concerned by the amount on blood that had splattered onto him.

"Give me that _ring_," The alchemist said, standing to his full height over the broken chimera.

Tobias was trying to pull himself away in panic, but he was weighed down by both his dead leg and the blood soaking the feathers of his wings. He crawled to the edge of the building before Kimblee picked him up by the shirt collar.

He didn't say anything as he held the chimera up. Tobias was too heavy for the alchemist to hold up too high, but the chimera was too drained to move, and his remaining leg dragged across the ground as Kimblee moved him to the edge of the roof.

His remaining hand was glowing red as he lifted it and held it against the chimera's chest. Tobias felt an unmistakable heat emit from his palm and braced for the worst.

The blast wasn't as strong as the one that had destroyed his leg, so Kimblee was obviously shooting, or blasting, to torment, not to kill, not yet.

Tobias fell from the roof, landing hard on his wings. He groaned and squirmed as the base hit the ground and the bone cracked audibly. Taking a blurred look at his body, he realized his chest cavity had been blown open, and miraculously, he wasn't dead.

The alchemist eased himself down the side of the building and hit the ground next to the chimera. He observed his work, clearly please as he noticed the force of his blast had been perfect; weak enough to keep the chimera alive by sparing his internal organs, but strong enough to obliterate the bone and expose his still beating heart and lungs to the outside atmosphere. It was only a matter of if he would die from the blood loss or the bacteria from the outside environment coming into contact with his unprotected body.

"Didn't I _tell _you to just give me the ring?"

A struggled groan was Tobias' response as he looked in horror at his exposed torso.

"Now you know." Kimblee walked over to the dying boy and grabbed his hand, his ring hand, and slipped the ring off of his finger. "Finally..." He sighed with contentment and slipped it onto his finger.

"Haa..." Tobias breathed, trying to speak.

Kimblee noticed, and knelt down to the chimera's level. "What was that?"

"You... fell... for it."

"_What _ _?_"

"That isn't... a... philosopher's stone... at all. It's... a fake... a dangerous fake..."

"_What _are you on about?"

Tobias grinned, despite the pain, and looked at the alchemist. "That ring... was made... by... my father... to distract... your forces during... the war. I... took it... after you killed... my family... so you would keep... searching... knowing I had it. You fell for it... and I saved... my people... in the end."

"Your people are _gone_."

"But... the attacks... on our lands... have stopped."

"Not for long."

"What...?"

"Our Führer is going to reestablish our place in your lands. And if we meet resistance, well, we're going to war," The alchemist said matter-of-factly.

"It will end... soon. As for now... that ring... will be the end of you."

Kimblee stood again and fought against the urge to kick the chimera. "Just die already."

The alchemist began to walk away when his head started to throb. His thoughts became cloudy and twisted, and he heard screams. It all happened fast. _"What's... what's happening!?"_

Turning back on Tobias, he saw that the chimera was laughing. "Everyone you've killed... will haunt you now... Every sin... brought back. That ring... was designed by... my father... to torture you... should you ever... find it."

Kimblee screamed, _"How?!"_ He tried to pull the ring off of his finger, but it wouldn't budge. The stone slowly darkened from red to black. _A trick?_

The screaming in his head intensified and in his mind's eye he was back in the desert battlefield, blowing up vehicles and civilians like they were nothing. And they were all back to haunt him. Everything was a blur, distorted. Voices began shrieking, several of them crying, asking him why.

When he came to, he was curled up on the alley ground and it had started raining, soaking him through his uniform. His eyes were burning, tears streaked down his face, and he was whispering things even he couldn't identify. He was completely detached from his body, lost in the chaos of his mind.

Somewhere a few yards away, the chimera was also groaning horribly as the rain fell over his exposed chest, slowly saturating his insides, close to drowning him, in a sense.

Kimblee couldn't take it anymore. All the screaming, the twisted mental images, they would never go away as long as the ring stayed on his finger. If he could only find a knife...

No, he could barely move. His energy was siphoned from the trauma, he couldn't bear it. He needed to escape it. _Escape it all._

Slowly, he crawled to the alley wall, leaned against it, and pulled his pistol out of its holster. Even more slowly, shaky, he put it to his head, and waited as moments passed. The screaming continued and his laughter suddenly started. When he killed, he loved it. He loved it so much it was hilarious in its simplistic pleasure.

But, he was not enjoying his own torment, he just laughed to distract his mind, to hide the pain.

His laughter ended abruptly as a shot rang out, ending the screams, the crying, the voices, and the images. The alchemist's body slumped against the wall like a rag doll as his blood ran.

The chimera hadn't watched his adversary die. It wasn't what he wanted to see in his last moments. He just turned his head, he stopped groaning, for the pain had become dull, numb. He wouldn't make it, that he knew.

Dying slowly, he wanted to make peace with himself, but his mind was muddled, quiet, and dark. He was finally alone with his thoughts, or lack thereof. Peaceful in its own way.

As his last thought, he concentrated hard, thinking of his homeland, his late family, and Anita. He also thought of the old man and Greed, whom he wished was still around to take care of his sister.

"Keep her safe..." He muttered, and exhaled his last breath.

* * *

In another part of Dublith, the ruins of a former bar, most popular among the lowlifes of the small town, sat in the rain, as two soldiers stood nearby.

"Why do we have to stand here all night?"

"They're worried that someone might try and steal something from the remains."

"Who would do that? How would someone even get through all the stone?"

"Beats me."

He groaned loudly.

"Shut up."

They stood far enough away from the ruins to feel as though they weren't on duty, safely assuming the old destroyed bar would remain untouched.

Rocks underneath the center of the pile shifted, ground against one another as they were pushed around, as though someone was digging through them. A hand, covered in a dark stone-like skin, pushed its way from under the rubble, clutching at the air above it, and finding nothing to grab on to. Satisfied that there was no more to dig through, a form covered from head to toe in the same stone-like skin slid its way from under the rubble, through the tunnel it had dug. It pushed itself through and out of the ruins, and sat on the edge of the large hole, lighting a cigarette and looking down.

That's when it heard the voices of the soldiers.

"So when do we get off?"

"Sometime in the morning. Nine, I think."

"That's so long from now, I don't think I can make it that long without falling asleep."

_"Let me help you with that..."_

The soldiers turned and were each met with a fist to the face. The attacker wasn't satisfied, however, and broke their necks.

He was filled with anger, a need for vengeance, but also a longing for something, a feeling that softened him a little.

As he walked past the ruins of the old bar, he took a drag on his cigarette and patted some rubble. His voice had softened, cigarette hanging from his mouth, and the cold rain soaking him to the bone.

"Looks like it's going to be a long night... Friends."


	24. Intermission

**I hadn't realized it's been three months. D:**

**Sorry again for the late submission. School and bleh bleh bleh. If you're still following this, good news! I have the next chapter all written up. I just need to edit it and what not and I can upload it. According to my notes... There's only about five chapters left. Oh God, what? That makes it sound excrutiatingly long, but I have about four weeks to do it. Why four weeks? Because that's when summer "starts" and I'm using this lovely blistering season to focus on a few other shorter fanfics and some novel I'm trying to write. Yeah, let's see how that turns out!**

**Anyways, I know some of you are confused when you read the latest chapters, because of all my chaos in the previous chapters trying to synch up to the newest chapters... And you can get a little lost. I don't know if that makes me a bad writer, if I should just stop, or continue on to finish this. So, I'm just going to finish this. Hopefully, if you're keeping up, by the final chapter it'll be all wrapped up, since there really is no big secret or plot twist, and you've probably figured out how it's going to end. Whatever. It's been fun. **

**And as always, please review. I like reviews. It makes this story seem like it's being read. Other than the two recent StoryAlert+s, those were nice. XD So yeah, at least do me that!  
**

* * *

When Pride left the apartment, he left in a daze. In such a situation, he wasn't sure what he should have done. Ultimately, he left the body. It was harder to do, but Fuery's body would eventually be found. Fuery would, eventually, be given the burial he deserved.

It was raining, pouring, soaking him to the core. His boots sloshed in the puddles, his bangs stuck to his forehead, and he couldn't help but be grateful that, before the accident, Greed and his chimeras had cut his hair. He was, again, equally as grateful that he was given pants and had ditched the skirt.

Paces away, three men sat in a car, watching.

"It worked."

"Of course it worked. Where else could he go?"

The driver shifted in his seat, sliding back and spreading his feet to find some comfort within the lack of leg room. The passenger sat rigidly and watched the homunculus through the window, chin in palm.

The other passenger sat in the back seat. The man, a term that could only be used loosely, panted haggardly. Unknown to the other men, his heart was beating quickly, the hair was standing on his neck, his spine shifted and crawled under his skin. The man-chimera coughed, a sound that he croaked out between a snarl and a choke.

Both men ignored him, kept watching the teen, muttering amongst each other.

"What will you do with him?"

"He can't be found by the traitors."

"So you found out who they were?"

He paused, "Finally, yes. And if they find out their prodigy has returned, it'll only fuel their-" he stopped to bark a laugh, "their revolution."

"Why don't you just kill them all?" Envy asked.

"They're no threat. Soon, even they will see that." Archer looked away from Envy, watching Pride walk along the street.

Pride stopped, wrapped his arms around himself. He was bitterly aware of how cold it was, but it wasn't the only reason. A shadow of his form slowly stretched over the ground in front of him. The light was dim, but it was close behind him. The teen couldn't help but expect something like it, that he was being followed.

He slowed, torn between the desire to run or to turn. The light grew brighter, his shadow stretched farther.

Archer gripped the wheel. "Are you going?" He asked Envy, without looking at him.

"Get closer."

Pride heard the rev of an engine, watched the lights behind him grow, and waited. He knew what they were going to do. He knew he just had to wait, and then...

And then he broke into a sprint when the vehicle wrenched to a stop just a few paces behind him. The cold air whipped against his skin, his eyes watering, his muscles protesting with each step.

Behind him, someone else was pursuing him. He didn't look back, didn't call out, he just kept running. His heart was frantic and there was a rock in his stomach. He knew who was chasing him.

Suddenly, he was thrown forward. He hit the ground hard and in the next moment, something was on top of him, pinning him down. With a scream of rage, Pride bucked, trying to force his pursuer off of him.

"This ends now, _brother_," Envy snarled, grabbing the back of the teen's head, and slamming it back down onto the ground. The force of the blow cut open Pride's forehead and pain blinded him right before he lost consciousness.

Envy stood, rubbed his hands together, and glanced back at the car, which Archer had coming up at a crawl to the homunculi. The Brigadier General stepped out of the car, walked over, and silently tucked his hands under Pride's shoulders. Envy took his legs and they carried him to the car, throwing him in the back with the chimera. Envy leaned over the seat with rope and tied up the teen's wrists and ankles, and gagged him with a rolled up piece of cloth, quickly, and then glanced at the chimera.

"Don't touch him," He warned. The chimera shrank back.

Archer had returned to the driver's seat and Envy hung back, folding his arms over the passenger seat's window. "I'll take care of him back at Headquarters."

Envy nodded once, then left. He had another way of getting into Headquarters, where he needed to be. Archer would deal with Pride and the oncoming rebellion, Envy would wait underground. For once, he was glad for the heavy rain and the storm winds, they dwarfed the sounds of their kidnapping. It hid their betrayal.

* * *

They had made it. They walked without rest, ran at times, and carried those who lost stamina. The mixed group of soldiers and chimeras worked together without falter. Dylan would give his blinded brother a running commentary as they traveled and one event during their journey had lightened his heart in particular.

The group was about halfway from Central when a young man in a gray uniform collapsed, both from malnutrition during his imprisonment in the laboratory and the biting cold of an Amestris winter. One chimera stopped next to him. He had a wide jaw, packed with sharpened teeth and a forked tongue. There were two rows of spikes that ran down each side of his back, from the largest over his shoulder blades, to the smallest by his hips. The soldier gazed at those spikes, eyes blurry, and he blinked hard. The chimera knelt down in front of him, reaching his arms over his shoulders. The young man understood the gesture and pushed himself up on his elbows, then grabbed the chimera's hand and pulled himself up onto the massive shoulders, holding onto on larger spikes.

When Dylan looked back, the chimera beamed at him, a smile full of shark teeth. The soldier on his back was being lulled into a well-deserved sleep.

They were all gathered in the outskirts of Central, tired, but more confident than when they started.

The soldier was still asleep on the chimera's back, the rest were paired off or grouped up of their own choice, while Dylan and Marcus kept lead. The young soldier from the beginning was still at Marcus' side, having not left his side at all. Marcus was proud of the young man for keeping up with the head of the group, for not giving up or passing out, though he must've been spared the horrors that the scientists inflicted on the others.

From their spot outside of the city, they could see the Central Headquarters, looming like a shadow. It was their destination, where they would either find freedom or death.

"Now what? Do we go in?" Dylan asked.

"Not yet. For now, we wait. Let the men sleep and recover, plan, wait for a signal, perhaps," Marcus replied, moving his blind gaze over the city. He could swear he had a sense for his surroundings, yes... He didn't need eyes to see.

"Alright," his brother said, a little incredulous.

Marcus kept focusing on the city as he heard Dylan address the men. Beside him, the young soldier shook with fear, Marcus could sense it. Without a word, he clapped a hand on his shoulder and he stopped shaking.

"What happens if they don't accept us back?" The soldier asked.

"Then we fight."

The young soldier sighed, but with an air of complacency that suggested he knew the risks and accepted the measures. Their men would be ready. Ready to accept their military to forsake them, and ready to fight for themselves.

* * *

**Also, it's funny that I remember this now, but some time ago I tried to submit a story, but I kept having to edit it, but I didn't think of editing the story itself, so I kept deleting and resubmitting the story and I probably bombarded some people's inboxes with alerts to a story I ended up not liking anyways. So... I probably lost some "subscribers". Oh well... **

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter. 3  
**


	25. There's Something In The Basement

**I promise I had this done and just got bogged down with school work and what have you. So... I don't know if I promised you that I would get this one up soon, but it's sort of soon! Right? **

**Anyways, hope you enjoy this. Hell, I hope you understand this. Maybe I'll throw in a recap chapter just for the fun of it. If you think that'd be a good idea, let me know, I want to know if I should make the effort to or not. Otherwise, I'll get started and hopefully finish the next chapter tomorrow, and work by a day or two basis on these chapters until it's all done, which is not too far off...**

**Enjoy!**

**(Also, I haven't mentioned disclaimers in a while, 'cause I thought it just carried over from my first few chapters. Either way... I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist or these characters. Okay, a few I own, kind of, spontaneous original characters bonus. XD)  
**

* * *

Pride groaned, and before anything else registered, he felt the blood running down his face. His wrists and ankles were tied and a gag muffled his speech.

He cursed himself. How could he be so careless?

The teenager clenched numb fists. His ragged breathing filtered out burning rage that curled his mouth into a trembling snarl. As much as a snarl as he could manage through a damp rag. He twisted and flexed and fidgeted, trying to break free, but to no avail.

After the frisson of finding himself incapacitated in a dark room passed, anxiety set in to dull the pain of his aching joints and skin rubbed raw from the restraints. There was then a bitterness, mixed with anger and boredom. The teen began humming a small tune. _Ode to Joy_, he believed it was called.

Close to finishing his song, the heavy door to his makeshift dungeon opened. A blinding light enveloped a vaguely familiar silhouette. Tall, skinny, and carried an air of mystery that was more dangerously unpredictable than relentlessly interesting. Pride slumped against the wall.

"You were supposed to be dead a long time ago."

"When?"

"On the train... When you were pushed off," Archer said, pulling on a pair of gloves with a _snap_. Pride narrowed his eyes as the soldier continued. "And then... In the laboratory," He said, softly, walking carefully towards the teenager with an instrument that glinted off of the light from the hallway. "The last time was in the tavern, in Dublith."

Pride swallowed hard.

"But, you just kept coming back. Like a disease, really... One that needs to be treated appropriately." Pride could see the instrument now. It was a coiled piece of steel, sharped to a point at the end. It was used to remove corks from bottles, but the soldier's intentions were far from popping open a bottle of spirits.

Pride shrunk back against the wall, shoes scraping along the ground, trying to push him away from his fate, as though if he pushed hard enough he could escape. A quiet groan escaped him, "Oh, no..."

-

Whispers had circulated through the string of Mustang's confidants. The Colonel wasn't sure if he could believe them, but such an event couldn't be done without others taking notice.

_Find Archer, you'll find Edward. _They told him.

If the Colonel was to guess where his subordinate was being held himself, he would entertain the idea that a man like Archer would want something soundproof, cold, dark. The Colonel was hopelessly uncertain where such a room would be at, so he stationed a few of his personnel to the four corners of each floor, awaiting the sight of the soldier.

It was only Mustang's luck that he would find him.

-

The opener tore out of his shoulder as smoothly as a dull knife might. Blood ran from the perfectly circular wound. It burned and throbbed, but the teenager made no sound. No acknowledgment of the man's toyings. The wounds healed shortly after they were inflicted, and it seemed that the soldier's patience for Pride's absent pain was growing thin.

Frank Archer's lips pulled back into a rictus snarl, a growl of rage escaped him, and he pulled his gun from his holster. It was aimed between the teenager's eyes, which had widened in ephemeral fear.

The door flew open as Pride slumped over, blood flowing freely. Two guards stationed outside of the door were standing there, mouths open in stunned silence.

"I'll return later, to finish," Archer said quietly, before turning and pushing his way past the guards.

Privates Josten and Shields, as Pride would eventually learn, stood watching the teenager bleed until they were told to shut the door. Josten did so, swearing to Shields that he saw the teenager moving, and Shields would remark that he was just seeing things, that the Brigadier General was just insane from the Ishbalan War and was talking to himself, that homunculi weren't real, and that maybe they shouldn't have taken the assignment as guards to a torture room. Josten would agree.

They stood then, and the room behind them and the hallways ahead of them were silent.

Pride stirred, brought back from death once again, although the stream of blood was still running down his face, forking at his nose and curving around his mouth. The teenager kept his head down, inhaled deeply, and let out a scream that shattered the silence of the cold room like the bullet that had killed him.

Outside of the door, the privates flinched. Guarding a soundproof door, they knew they shouldn't be able to hear sounds from inside, but perhaps the room wasn't soundproof at all, perhaps the teenager had just been silent up until then. Private Josten slid to a sitting position, cradling his gun to his chest.

Afterwards, the teenager remained quiescent for an impossible amount of time.

-

Mustang met the Brigadier General in the hallway. He, too, had heard the scream, and searched the second floor of the basement with a renewed determination. The Brigadier General caught up with him around the corner. Mustang turned when he heard the footsteps and both men stopped and stared at one another.

"What are you doing down here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

Silence passed between them. A tension that verged on dangerous. Archer slowly, very slowly, reached for his gun. Mustang already had his gloves, rubbing his forefinger and thumb together compulsively.

"Archer!"

Mustang turned. The Führer stood at the end of the hallway, flanked by two officers. With a scowl, Archer moved his hand back to his side and walked to the Führer, aggressively shoving the Colonel out of the way.

The Colonel watched as they left, satisfied, but edgy. Once the four of them reached the stairs, Mustang took off in a dead sprint. Edward couldn't be too far away.

Private Josten held his head in his hands, rocking softly against the door.

"Get up," Private Shields snapped. "Get _up._"

"This is bad this is bad this is bad."

"You're right."

Shields and Josten both looked towards the voice, a soft, feminine voice, although nonetheless commanding. A gun was pointed at Private Shields, while Private Josten remained on the floor, cowering.

"Lieutenant! How good it is to... See you! We were just-"

"Save it. The Colonel will be here shortly. You hold a State Alchemist in that room and I suggest you release him before he gets here," Lieutenant Hawkeye said, holding her gun up to her eyes, training it carefully.

Private Shields nodded, set down his rifle, and opened the door. The Lieutenant went over to Private Josten, kneeled down, and took his hand.

"He told us it was a simple job. No mess, but he shot him. He shot him and he's not even dead," Josten sobbed.

Hawkeye nodded. "There are a lot of things that you don't know – yet. Come with us and live."

Josten wiped his eyes and watched as a tall, dark-haired man approached him. "Watch the hallway," he said. Josten nodded, stood, and quickly made his way to the main hallway.

"_Get away from me!"_

Private Shields was thrown against a wall, the stone moving and curling around him, threatening to crush him. Pride stood paces away, the bonds gone, alchemy licked his skin like electric sparks.

The Colonel and the Lieutenant stood away, unsure of how to approach the alchemist. But if they didn't, the young private would be crushed to death.

"Edward...?"

The teenager turned, his face a pure picture of anger, but then softened. "You're... I know you."

"Let him go."

Private Shields dropped to the floor as his stone prison fell with him in pieces.

Mustang took a few tentative steps towards the teenager. "You're safe now. We're here to help you."

Pride stood straight, eyes narrowed.

-

The Colonel closed the door behind his back and looked around his office. Pride sat on the couch, hugging himself calmly under a dark blue military jacket. The Lieutenant stood near the door, closest to Mustang. Havoc sat near Pride, carefully watching the homunculus. The two young privates, Shields and Josten, sat on his desk. Shields patted Josten on the shoulder, who still appeared shaken up. The others were rallying the revolution members or just waiting for the signal themselves.

"I need to get to the Führer's office," Pride said, quietly.

The Colonel nodded, "It's going to be tough, but perhaps in the chaos that's we're about to stir up, it could be possible."

Pride looked up, incredulous. "What do you plan to do? Topple the government? Look at what they've done to us already."

Mustang shrugged. "It can't remain the way it is now."

Pride pulled the military jacket – given to him by Havoc – tighter around his shoulders. In the distance, he could hear bells ringing. He turned towards the sound, it was coming from the church, and then noticed a change in the Colonel's demeanor.

"It's begun," He said quietly, grinning.

* * *

**Hope all that wasn't too much... Too dramatic, but I needed something like all of that in here. Right.**

**Anyways, I love reviews, of course, and whatever else you can throw at me. Don't flame... Specifically criticize... Etc. Thanks! 3  
**


	26. The Calm Before The Storm

**Welcome back, four month gap. **

**The break was for a few reasons. Mostly because I had written so much and put off editing. Not that much after four months, but... There were other projects too. But I've been hauling ass these last few weeks, mainly because of NaNoWriMo. I want all of my attention on this next month. Also, I've noticed a few readers trickle down to the latest chapters and since I've been seeing fewer +alerts and +faves, I guess most of you are caught up. (Not like this is an easy story to follow anyway). **

**However, don't let this little chapter discourage you. I've got the next two chapters written and edited, a combined effort of around nineteen pages! Expect to see those tomorrow night. Though to warn you, this chapter might have a few mistakes that I missed. Oh well.  
**

**As always, thanks for reading and please review. I love them. Even if it's just to say, "Cool." XD**

**Enjoy!  
**

* * *

"Well this _is_ a sight."

No response, just a gag held back.

One officer held his sleeve to his mouth, unable to respond. The smell was unlike anything else he'd ever smelled. It was burnt flesh and exposed bile and day old death.

Two corpses lay covered in the alley. One against the wall, leaning with hands out in front of him, a forcefully discarded piece of his skull just a few paces away. The other lay prone at the end of the alley, as though he were sleeping, and one cold, pale hand reached out from under the tarp.

"How'd they die?" The officer with the weak stomach asked.

The soldier shrugged and walked to the end of the alley, the officer stayed behind, fidgeting nervously.

He grabbed the corner of the tarp, attempting to keep a certain distance from the corpse's hand, and hesitated. He threw a glance over his shoulder, seeing the worried eyes of his friend, and swallowed his fear, carefully lifting the tarp just enough to see the damage...

...And dropped it again with a gasp, stumbling backwards off of the balls of his feet, holding back sickness with his fist through his teeth.

"You're lucky you weren't in the war, boy."

A senior officer walked in on the scene and nudged the amateur away. The young officer rolled onto his stomach and crawled away as his friend hurried over, quick to help him up and away.

He watched the two stumble off, and knelt down, pulling back the tarp just enough for him to check the damage. It was a sight. The body was pale, the chest cavity completely exposed, and huge, brittle, bloody wings lay crushed underneath him. The officer pulled his lips into a lopsided frown, reaching out a hand to prod at the exposed ribcage, not feeling a bit of repulsion. It was charred, as he had already guessed, seeing the other victim and putting two and two together.

The younger officer, having seen the end result from a distance and emptied his stomach behind a dumpster, stood with his friend now, shaking.

"One less chimera... Can't say I'm disappointed."

A whine through gritted teeth was his reply.

With an irritated sigh, the soldier threw an arm around his shoulders and led him away, readily leaving the senior officer to study the corpse.

Suppressed sobbing, a trembling sound whimpered from around the corner.

"Shh." A reassuring sound as two figures emerged onto the crime scene. Two, to the casual eye, onlooking bystanders, but two of the only people in the city with a stake in at least one of the victims. Anita shook as she watched the senior officer impassively poke and prod her dead brother, as though he were merely a piece of meat. She tried to take a step towards the scene, her rage melting away her grief for one blind moment.

Hohenheim pulled her back to the present, as she was kept in place and forced to act as though a stranger. "Just keep calm. If they knew... Well, chimeras are still illegal, no matter under what circumstances they were made."

Anita turned around to tear her gaze from the scene and found a softer place well beyond the moment's comprehension. She found herself pulled to a familiar body, shoulders lined with white fur, of which she hadn't seen in too long. Arms wrapped around her to settle just under her shoulder blades with another reassuring "Shh".

"Welcome back," Hohenheim said quietly, a smile tugging on his features by the tone of his voice.

"Good to be back," Greed replied, just as cheerfully.

Anita was caught with a mixture of emotions all too overwhelming to express, so she settled with nestling into the comfort of a solid body and a beating heart, crying ever so softly, enough to fool the soldiers and officers into thinking she was just a woman who came upon the scene and became emotional.

-

"What's happening?" Pride demanded, standing up, tearing off his jacket and dropping it back into the owner's lap.

The Colonel was still pressed close to the door, as though waiting for something. "A revolution," He said quietly, anxious. A door slammed down the hall, taking the attention of the Colonel as he smiled and waited still, until there was a knock at the door. He threw it open and a man rushed in, too quickly moving to provide introductions. Pride only noticed a head of short blond hair, large blue eyes, and a tall, fit body clothed in a blue uniform, a few shades darker than any Pride had seen before.

One of the Führer's private guards, Pride remembered. This "revolution" was reaching up to nearly the highest ranks.

Once he'd locked the door again, Mustang rushed to this man's side. "So?"

"What do you think? It's been compromised," He said. Mustang's face fell. "It's now or never."

"The others... Are they ready?"

"Yes. Just give the word."

The Colonel nodded, went to the door, and turned to face his comrades. Pride spoke first. "I hope your resistance is enough to defend against the numbers behind the Führer. If not, you don't stand a chance and you're wasting your time."

Mustang gave him a blank look, obviously too enthusiastic to have taken offense to Pride's comment. Instead, he gave a simple, "Of course."

"You all have your assigned rooms. Go to them, alert the rebels, and eliminate your targets. Any resistance we meet on the way to the Führer's office-" he added with a nod in Pride's direction, "-will be dealt with on sight. And remember: Those wearing red are allies."

The soldiers around the room removed red scarves from pockets and sleeves, tying them around their necks or arms or waists. Pride was handed a borrowed shred from another's scarf and he tied it around his calve.

"Ready."

* * *

**Also, I don't own FMA or its characters/affiliates/etc. **

**Haven't said that in a while, though I figure it'd be clear after the first one. XD**

**Thanks for reading annnnnnnnd please review!  
**


	27. The Storm: Part One

**Hey all! Told you tonight would bring updates previously unheard of! Woo! This is only part one of three of the updates tonight. **

**The battle isn't that spectacular, seeing as how I kept the focus on two specific people. But, here's to hoping it's decent enough. **

**But first, a little shout out. I'm so grateful to all of you who've been keeping up with the story and faving it and whatnot. But, here's just a few who I've seen in the past couple of days. **

**Mulin **

**seacowforever94**

**Mistress Mayu**

**The Ebony Alchemist **

**for all of your +faves and +alerts. =]**

**Also, to CleverPhoenix for the nice review. **

**And to anyone I missed: You know who you are and you make this possible. 3**

**And now... Enjoy!  
**

* * *

Soldiers flooded into the hallways in pairs and groups of threes, guns out, red insignias flaring to life over quickly moving fabric. Doors were kicked down, known Führer sympathizers were shot on sight, and other unknown personnel were questioned.

The resistance started small, a group of less than ten going room by room against the sympathizers, which had grown in number since Hakuro came to power. In a matter of a little less than an hour, enough alarm had been raised to draw more soldiers, both rebel and sympathizers, out into the fray. Slowly, state alchemists emerged, also positioned on both sides.

Mustang and Pride made their way down the hall adjacent to the staircase, which would take them to the floor that held the Führer's office. The hallway was filled with smoke as they crossed an open office serving as an emergency medical room.

Five soldiers were currently occupying the space, three injured, two aiding. One man held his arm, which bled through his fingers, though he showed little pain in his expression. Another man held his cupped hands under a hole in his side, hunched over while an attendant cleaned and bandaged it.

The last man, the worst case both the Colonel and Pride had seen thus far, was on his back on the now stained carpet, mouth and eyes open, but unresponsive. The last soldier-aide pushed his palm into his chest in a jerky, pumping motion.

The two hesitated for a moment to watch as he finally gave up after what must have been several minutes of attempts and sat back, wiping his face dry of what appeared to be sweat or tears, or a mixture of both. Then they continued.

They reached the epicenter of the conflict, near the Führer's office, albeit a few floors down, but not too near. A corner office had been destroyed on its two exposed sides and hallowed out, now being used as a barricade by the rebels, in this section led by State Alchemist Armstrong, who could also most likely be blamed for the renovation.

Men with guns behind an overturned desk fired rounds blindly into a cloud of smoke, which overtook another side hallway, one that had to reach this particular intersection to reach the Führer's office. The Colonel picked up his pace and sprinted past the open hallway, ducking to avoid any stray gunfire. Pride followed suit, hoping Marta's old thick combat boots wouldn't make him lose his footing, and he dove into the open office along with Mustang, sitting against the ruins of a wall that still stood high enough to conceal them.

After a few moments of listening to one another's desperate panting, Pride broke the silence.

"What now?"

The Colonel stared at Pride for a moment, then quickly leaned around their shelter, taking a quick glance before a stray bullet almost caught him in the arm and he returned to his spot, shaken only slightly.

"Our only route is blocked for now. Unless Armstrong and this unit can clear the way, we're stuck here for a while," He explained hastily, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve.

Pride nodded slowly, rocking himself into a couching position, and before the Colonel could utter a word of protest, ran back out into the conflict.

* * *

"It's deserted."

Marcus turned his head towards his brother. "Or they're hiding."

Dylan looked around them as they walked down main street, having seen it empty and safe to travel through. He watched as curtains from the buildings around them ruffled and shifted, as though only drawn a moment before. "Perhaps you're right."

"What would scare them back to their homes?" Marcus asked.

A soldier pushed between them, pointing at the Central headquarters looming in the distance. "Look-!"

Suddenly, the ground shook beneath them and an explosion deafened the small army of chimeras. Most covered their ears painfully as windows shook and threatened to shatter around them. Among the chaos, a few looked towards the source of the sonic boom.

Where one full section of the Central headquarters once was, a tree now sprouted, massive and jutting out from the structure with such precariousness that it seemed to defy gravity. Debris of the broken walls had fallen to the street, in piles of stone and glass.

They watched in awe as more sprouted from the inside, breaking through the foundation of the headquarters, as though part of the natural environment, to spread their branches along the outer walls, smaller roots breaking through windows and overtaking the building from the inside out.

"Who could do something like this?" Someone asked, the amazement in his voice singing like a bird.

Without waiting for an answer, Marcus broke off into a sprint, ignoring the shaking earth beneath him, feet pounding over an unstable footing. His blindness meant nothing to him. There was his conflict, raging inside of his former institute, while the world around it fell silent and still. Dylan was following closely behind, while he could hear the remaining soldiers and former soldiers – No, they were still soldiers – chasing likewise their key to the meaning of their lives after the lab.

* * *

The top floor was where the Führer held his quarters, where his defenders fought in their greatest intensity.

One State Alchemist, a woman with blond hair and startling green eyes, moved her hands in arching motions in front of her. Intricate green tattoos covered her arms and hands to their fingertips. Great roots sprouted around the office door and grew rapidly, creating a barrier between her Führer and the rebellion.

More graceful movements, more of the imposing architecture and enemy soldiers became nothing more than trees and roots and life more meaning to her than their hearts and blood and guns.

* * *

Pride rushed out into the fray, past his allied gunmen and into their line of fire. They hesitated slightly, but kept firing, and he expected nothing less of them. He rushed through the smoke, finding surprised faces waiting for him on the other side. They reacted quickly, but not quickly enough.

He caught one bullet in the knee, easily forced out of the wound as it closed in the next instant. In the same moment, Pride clapped his hands and slammed them onto the wall next to him and moments later, the gunfire stopped on both sides and the smoke began to clear.

Soldiers on the other side lowered their weapons and stared in horror as Pride slipped past them and pulled Mustang from his hiding spot. He took him by the shoulders, saying, "We have no time to waste."

The Colonel followed him back into the hallway and past the barricade.

"Ed... What did you-"

"No time."

They passed the dead soldiers. One after another, men had been impaled on iron spikes protruding out of the wall at horizontal angles. It was gruesome and cruel, but Mustang knew it had been somewhat necessary for the homunculus, because neither his circumstances nor the situation called for modesty or restraint.

They reached the end of the hallway, soldiers behind them laying down their weapons. With a quick glance over his shoulder, the Colonel realized their horrified expressions were concentrated solely on the homunculus and his dark doings.

Within a few minutes, having the need to take corners with caution and maneuver through smoke which stalled a usually short trip, they reached the stairs. There were two poor victims sprawled over the steps, mouths open and blood dripping from wounds in the chest. Even more despairing were the shreds of red cloth tied to their arms. The Colonel reached a hand over to stop Pride in his tracks, then carefully approached the fallen soldiers. What had appeared to be normal wounds at first glance, turned to deep and ugly gashes at a closer look.

"What could have done this?" Pride asked, gently stepping up behind his former superior.

As if in response, a soft hiss came from above them.

The teen lifted his head slowly, fearing the worst and, as far as he could tell, Mustang was doing the same. Their eyes met a pair of black orbs, dark as night and equally as sinister, embedded in the form of a beast hanging over the upper floor railing.

They instantly separated. Mustang had his gloves on in one moment and alchemic sparks flared from the teen's fingers in the next. The ground shuddered as the chimera hit the ground, facing the Colonel. It lunged for him and Pride found himself unsure of what to do. From the beginning of the entire ordeal, Pride had no fear of leaving the Colonel to fend for himself, but now it seemed as if the man was stricken, unable to move. Pride's reaction turned from carnage to protection, throwing his hands out in front of him, a benevolent force flew from his hands and struck the Colonel in the chest, knocking him just out of reach of the chimera's attack, although leaving the breath in his lungs back where the beast landed.

The Colonel landed hard against the wall, gasping for breath as the chimera poised for another attack. This time, Pride threw out his hands again, streaks of blue-black lightning arching towards the chimera, bouncing off its hide as though made of rubber. Mustang was still slumped against the wall, breath coming with difficulty, though aside from that, the Colonel seemed unharmed.

At that moment, at least.

Pride was at a loss at what to do, only to watch as, in the blink of an eye, the chimera pounced. A bestial shriek came from behind the homunculus. He turned just as a massive form lumbered past him with deceptive speed. It roared again, a sound that shook the remaining pieces of the floor and caused the chimera to pause just a second too late. It was barreled over at the last second by what Pride soon realized was another chimera.

The two beasts clashed as the Colonel dragged himself back to the teen. He was a little worse for wear, but nothing that a little continuous movement and adrenaline wouldn't fix. He stood with the homunculus as they watched the two chimeras fight viciously. Claws ripped flesh and teeth tore skin. It was a sight to behold. Enough of a sight to distract the two men as more gathered behind them.

Without any imminent threat, they were able to study the beasts. The first one, the one that attacked them, resembled a large cat more than anything else. It had a misshapen body, as any chimera made would, but had sharp eyes and a mane of scales reaching halfway down its back. It had claws half a foot long and front fangs twice as long. Both were scraping craters out of the other's hide.

The other was more similar to a lizard. Its skin was green-brown scales, as though rusting, with patches already torn from the battle. Spikes lined its back, from largest to smallest. It had rows of sharp teeth, equally as daunting as the foot-long fangs of his adversary.

The tide of the fight turned as more gathered around. Pride didn't tear his eyes from the fight to notice their new company, sure that the fact that they were still standing was evidence enough that the latter was friendly. The reptile ran its claws over the others eyes, tearing them to shreds and blinding it. It stumbled back, howling in agony, and crashed into the wall, whining.

Someone whistled from behind Pride. The reptilian chimera backed away from his foe, visually restraining himself against finishing it. As it passed the pair, it changed dramatically, the scales melting back into pale skin, the spikes retreating into his back an inch each, though the teeth remained as they were. The chimera hissed as it passed the homunculus, although the latter felt the tone was more curious than hostile.

Mustang pushed against Pride to stumble back up the stairs, towards the fallen chimera. He knelt down by the head, ignoring Pride's protests and grabbing hold of a tuft of fur, lifting it up to reveal a small, silvery object. He grabbed hold of that, studying it closely. A name was printed on it. A name that made his heart sink even further than it had before.

_Private __David Laybourn._

Pride approached quietly again, looking over his superior's shoulder and beholding the name with confusion.

"This is what made you choke?"

The chimera whined again, clearly too wounded to seek to attack anyone else. To Pride it was just another occurrence in his world, where homunculi and chimeras were too common place to attach himself to. To Mustang, here was a man who sought his council and left, only to be reduced to _this._ What could easily be considered an abomination. A creature of agony forced to attack those it once obeyed and, even more likely, admired. The creature, the _man,_ kept whining and scratching the ground pathetically.

"Leave it. We need to keep going."

Mustang nodded. He began to rise and then, as though an afterthought, grabbed the chimera's dog tag and broke its chain, stuffing it into his pocket.

The group that had formed behind them, along with their savior chimera, gathered around them again.

"We're here to join the resistance." The speaker was blindfolded.

Mustang turned on him, steeling himself against his emotions, turning back into a hardened soldier. Better yet, a stoic Colonel. "We assumed as much." After some consideration, he added, "How are you sure we're the right side to join?"

A man near the blindfolded one answered first. "The rebels wouldn't force chimeras to fight for their cause. So, the sympathizers wouldn't be attacked by one. Until now, that is."

Mustang considered this, staring down the group. None left his gaze. "Good answer."

"Please..."

They all turned towards the plea.

The chimera had turned just enough into a human to speak halfway normal. His face bordered by scales, his claws replaced with slim fingers, and his eyes back to their normal hue, although covered in blood and widened in pain.

"Kill him..." He wheezed. "Kill the General and his pet..." Between the ragged gasps there were the words he spoke, filled with anger, the fury equal to the pain he must have felt moments before.

They continued to stare down at the dying beast. There was no way he was going to make it. Besides his eyes, blood poured from several very deep wounds along his torso. Mustang briefly wished he hadn't of been saved by a beast capable of doing such damage.

"What?" The Colonel asked. "Pet?"

"The doctor... The one who did this to me... To all of us!" He whispered. The mutant Laybourn spat blood and wheezed again, switching back to his chimera form, the strain of keeping himself between the two forms taking an obvious toll on him.

"Tucker..." Pride whispered. Mustang and the others seemed to take no notice. The doctor was a topic Greed and him had discussed while the teen was in his company. Late nights were spent covering things that the elder homunculus deemed necessary for him to know. The doctor, in particular, was something he had been told to remember. Greed always had the nagging feeling he would be betrayed by the sheepish doctor. It seemed as though his surrogate mentor had been right.

Experiencing the briefest moment of grief for his late brother of sorts, Pride quickly pushed it aside. _Greed_ would probably have nagged him endlessly for harboring such emotions and letting them affect him as they were about to.

By the time he had pulled himself back from his reverie, it seemed the chimera had passed on. Mustang, although gazing at the chimera like a lost friend, seemed otherwise unaffected, and was quick to recover and continue on up the stairs, the menagerie of soldiers and chimeras and the lone teenage homunculus following closely behind.


	28. The Storm: Part Two

Hohenheim kept close to the outside wall of the building, tracing his hands along the brick wall, trying to find a fault to carefully and silently penetrate. He was so consumed in his current task that he didn't hear the figure creep up behind him.

"You thought you could come here alone?"

Hohenheim started, then recognized the voice and chuckled. "Someone had to look after Anita."

Greed stepped from the shadows, running his hands over the brick as Hohenheim did. "She's safe," He said quietly, "Back at your home."

"Alone?"

A silence passed between them, as they were reminded someone close to them had died not more than a day ago. "Yes. Alone."

Hohenheim grunted his response, then sighed. "I was hoping to get in without being noticed, but I guess the front door will have to do. I need to get to my son."

Greed seemed to ignore him, shifting his hands into that of his ultimate shield and sinking his claws into the brick. The brick gave way as though soft soil and, through a process of pulling himself up a few times, Greed concluded he could pull himself up the height of the headquarters. "You do that," He said, pulling himself up the first time, unhooking one hand from the wall and sinking it into another part, repeating the movement until he was several feet above. "I'll meet you at the top."

Hohenheim watched him continue up the wall in his curious manner for a good thirty seconds before going his own way, slinking along the wall, around the corner, and bracing himself for any resistance he might meet at the door and along the way.

* * *

"We're lost."

"We're not lost."

"You've been here for how long and you don't know the way to the Führer's office?"

"It's harder to navigate when the halls are filled with smoke. Besides, you've been here for long enough."

"I have amnesia on my side."

Marcus forced his way in between the bickering men. He turned to stare at each of them and, despite his blindfold, could see the stress exuding from the both of them. He could relate well enough, having put himself into a battle when he was blinded wasn't the most relaxing of options either. Regardless, if these two couldn't keep it together, no one could.

"Get a grip on yourselves. We're in the middle of a civil war here, not a scavenger hunt."

He felt both men calm down enough to keep quiet as they continued down the hall. With the seemingly endless smoke, the hallways had become a labyrinth of mystery turns with no end in sight. Only with luck did they stumble upon another staircase only thirty minutes after the last, where the chimeras had fought. They went up another floor, closer and closer they came to the Führer.

As they entered the floor, they were greeted by another seismic tremor, one like many others that had occurred since they entered the battle. They seemed to originate from the uppermost floors. Finally, as though in afterthought, Dylan, Marcus' brother, as they learned, told them of what they had seen outside of the building, and asked if the soldiers knew anyone who might have such a power.

Neither knew for sure, but both readily guessed a state alchemist was the culprit.

"I don't know if we'll be prepared to face him... Or her," Pride confessed.

"When that time comes... You'll have a small army behind you," Dylan said, locking eyes with the homunculus, gesturing to their following.

Suddenly, they were faced with what seemed like the origin of the great amount of smoke permeating every hall in the building. Three beasts stood at an intersection, black smoke pouring out of great steel maws. They stood on two legs and resembled bears more than anything else, with bodies covered in fur and muscled arms hanging at their sides. One man stood in the middle, clad in a uniform the shade of blue reserved only for the Führer's personal guard. He looked around anxiously, on behalf of himself, paying careful attention to the one hallway that was clear of smoke.

If they were going to get to the Führer's office, they had to get through the beasts and their handler, and that hallway was their only clear route. Pride and Mustang exchanged unsure expressions. As though sensing their apprehension, Marcus stepped up and offered his help.

Before the Colonel or the teen could protest, three chimeras from the group behind them darted out, pounding towards the enemies. Despite their differences in size, the chimeras hit the smokers hard. Two went down easy and with that distraction, the chimeras not burdened with a conflict pounced on the man in the middle, taking him down in a matter of a few seconds. All three came up again, ready to fight.

Pride watched with widened eyes as three of their own fought unerringly against their adversaries. Without attracting the attention of his companions, Mustang ran ahead as one of their chimeras was knocked back against a wall, its attacker standing along some paces away.

In moments, the bear-like creature burst in a torrent of fire.

The remaining chimera rose and joined the others without hesitation. Mustang repeated his maneuver as two chimeras pushed back one of the beasts and ran back, finishing off the remaining chimera with continuous brute force.

With all four enemies dead or dying, the group continued, now free of any hindrance by the smoke. As they passed over the scene, Pride noticed that the soldier hadn't died from his wounds, but instead suffered slowly, his blue eyes watching the teenager with a mixture of pain and hatred for the rebels. Pride almost stopped, his hesitation obviously noticed, as Mustang grabbed his arm and pulled him along.

"There's no need. We have to hurry, I think that time has become a commodity."

Pride realized he was right. They had missed much of the conflict, the battle being in their highest intensities on the lower and upper floors, and now that the smoke was beginning to dissipate, the sympathizers would surely notice.

* * *

"Report."

A nervous, wide-eyed, and sweating officer shook before the Führer, looking down at a paper filled with chickenscratch that was meant to be passed as a report.

"Well, s-sir. The efforts on the b-b-bottom floors are... Are s-struggling, to say th-the least."

What the officer failed to note, though, was that the Führer was just as nervous. His head was filled with his own paranoid thoughts, knowing for sure the rebels would find him, kill him. He could see the faces and hear the voices of all of the soldiers he had tortured and killed and turned into bestial instruments of his tyranny. It was all coming back to him. His initial plan had failed and now it was returning to carry out his demise. Surely a failure was not fit to live in the eyes of those he served. One of whom stood just behind him.

"Useless. Every single one of you." Envy spat.

The officer seemed to experience surprise at the homunculus' abrupt statement, but it was short-lived. He stiffened, his hands turning into fists involuntarily and crushing the paper, jerked painfully, and fell hard to the floor. Archer stood just behind him as he fell, wiping bright blood off of a small hunting knife. The officer died at his feet as he glowered.

"Sorry for the waste of your time, your excellency. It seems what he was trying to say was we are weak in the places that matter not and are strong closest to this room," He stated calmly, slipping the knife back into a holster just under his dress jacket.

The Führer nodded numbly, still mulling over his imminent demise in his head.

"Not for long," Envy added, turning to a bookcase and making a gesture. The piece slid away and revealed an elevator. "It's time for us to retreat underground."


	29. The Storm: Part Three

They easily passed by all of the conflict on the middle floors. Soon, they found themselves at the top floor, albeit at the opposite side of the building from where their destination was. It was an easy trip, especially since the smoke had cleared, a small detail in which they all were immensely grateful.

They ran the length of one hallway, getting ever closer to the sounds of intense conflict. Another tremor shook the floors beneath them, threatening to break and send them falling to their deaths. Another explosion took out the wall several yards in front of them. Sympathizers were thrown back into their line of sight. Several of the officers running with the homunculus and the Colonel pulled out guns that were looted from bodies and shot them as they tried to recover.

From around the corner, most soldiers flooded over the fallen men, quickly traveling to their next rendezvous point. One familiar face noticed them and stopped. Blond hair swept back as gentle brown eyes took them in, she called out orders for a reinforced perimeter and waved the newcomers into their path.

The group rushed forward, ducking around the corner before the rear collapsed, sending a new wave of gunfire their way.

All of them made it back in one piece, and once they were able to stop and gather their bearings, saw why. Parts of the walls had broken off and fused together, creating a wall that blocked any enemy soldiers from their path. They, in essence, had made a small base for themselves just a hallway and a few turns from the Führer's office. The culprit, State Alchemist Armstrong, stood just a few paces away, a proud grin planted over his face, much unlike the somber giant Mustang had grown accustomed to over the past few weeks.

Mustang did a mental count of the personnel there. All of his personal subordinates had survived, at least, as well as many more he did not immediately recognize. The great number of allies heightened his morale. And it seemed their small reinforced section of headquarters had granted them some reprieve. However, that reprieve was short-lived.

With a cry of battle, more chimera charged from around the corner into their small camp. Those who were resting quickly rose and began firing, alchemist began casting, and the rebel chimeras charged headlong into the throng of enemies. A few chimeras perished in the first wave, their confidence overshadowing odds as an endless wave of enemy chimeras ran into the fight.

Pride watched with something akin to horror as he searched for the one he knew had to be among the beasts. Finally, in the back, he saw him. The doctor with the misshapen body and bright eyes turned and locked gazes with the homunculus. Up to that moment, there had been something brewing in the teen, like resentment or even hate, something he needed to channel onto something carefully and exclusively. He had found his target.

Ignoring all protests and shocked gazes, Pride barreled through the chimeras, past the foot soldiers behind them, and towards the doctor. He was quickly aided by Armstrong, who rose the ground under the chimeras, crushing most and critically wounding the rest, giving Pride less to deal with on his way to the doctor. As he neared, his head rattled with ideas of how to kill the pathetic man. How best to translate his anger. He was closer, closer, reaching out his hand, crackling with blood red energy...

...When without warning, another jumped the doctor, a large, dark, savage creature, whose skin shone like deep, black scales. It ripped the doctor to shreds and Pride fell short, taken aback at his stolen chance of revenge. He was momentarily overtaken by anger, but turned to surprise as he realized something familiar about the newcomer, something in the way he fought. After what seemed to be a few timeless moments, the doctor lay in a heap before him, torn apart and barely twitching through a very slow death.

His attacker stepped over the dying man and Pride could see him more clearly. His towering shadow fell over the homunculus, as dark as the man himself. With one affirmative nod, he reached out his hand. Pride accepted it without hesitation and was unsuspectingly pulled into a brotherly hug, quickly resolving his questions.

When he pulled back, a grin stretched across his face. "Greed."

The man gave him a thumbs up and stood back. A light quickly washed over him, from his head to his feet. Dark eyes blinked, a mouth opened to inhale much needed oxygen, and the familiar white fur exploded from under the second skin, revealing the clothes of his former mentor. "Hey there."

"How did you-?"

Greed shook his head. "No time. We've got to get to the office."

Pride nodded, casting a look back at the rebels, who had completely overtaken the attackers and had abandoned their post, quickly passing both homunculi and charging down the hall, where they met more resistance.

Mustang fell to a kneeling position, pulled on his glove and sent waves of fire into the horde. From next to him, a shirtless officer fired his gun, one eye closed in concentration. During the lull in the battle, the Colonel gave him a lopsided glance. The officer noticed. "I didn't have time to get dressed by the time your rebels came knocking on my door."

"Well, my apologies."

"No need, nothing more a coat could do for me than skin can," He said with a grin.

Another tremor shook them to the point where they nearly lost their footing. They were coming at shorter intervals and that unnerved most of the soldiers, wondering if the physical foundation of their battle was faltering.

Greed leaned closer to Pride. "I know where the earthquakes are coming from. Your father is handling it."

Eyes wide with curiosity, Pride leaned back. "He's here? What about Tobias?" He felt like an excited child seeing his friends after a long time. For a moment, something in the homunculus' face worried Pride, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

"There'll be time for that later."

The abrupt dismissal worried the teenager further, but he didn't press the issue, he only followed as the elder homunculus started down the hall back into the group of rebels. By now they had realized Greed was an ally and moved to let him through. Whether it was out of disgust or respect, it didn't matter much to the man, so long as he could get to the front lines of the fighting.

Mustang, who knelt a few yards away, reviewed his mental map of the building, quickly able to extricate his position and conclude that they were very close to Hakuro's office. He relayed his information to anyone who was near. They relayed it to their officers and soon, in the midst of a shootout, a plan was hatched. If something so bold and spontaneous could be called a plan.

While talking to Marcus and Dylan, who were holding their own despite their personal handicaps, they had devised the plan to send in the chimeras as the first wave against the sympathizers, followed closely by lower rank soldiers and then officers and State Alchemists. Assuming Pride and his companion had already gone on ahead, the chimeras and soldiers would meet up with the direct resistance nearest the Führer in one piece. Marcus and Dylan reluctantly agreed.

Greed had kept his pace yards ahead of Pride. The teen wondered if it was to shield the younger homunculus from harm and, agitated, pushed himself ever closer to his elder. They were out of sight from the rest of the party. He hadn't realized how far they'd gotten. Sooner had he thought that that they came upon another group of rebels, red scarves flowing from their respective bodily locations. They fought earnestly against the group of sympathizers congregated outside of the Führer's door. Pride suddenly felt a chill of anticipation and just a touch of fear, so distracted was he by the conflict that he had barely time to notice his father fighting among them.

Hohenheim was concentrating hard, as his eyes never left one particular spot, which Pride followed and found the most likely target, a State Alchemist in the back, standing against the office door. She held her side, hunched over with blood dripping from her lips. Her eyes narrowed at the older man, who had most likely caused her the physical trauma. He, in return, narrowed his own and moved his hands, clearly transmutating but what it was, Pride could not determine. Suddenly, a scream escaped the woman as something hit her square in the chest, knocking the air out of her and obviously causing some additional internal damage. It was an effect similar to Pride's when he had shoved the Colonel out of the chimera's path.

Bracing through the pain, she moved her hands in a similar fashion and another tremor shook the area. Finally, Pride had found the source of the earthquakes, as Greed had told him. Unbelievably, roots sprouted from the floor and took hold of his father's legs. Simultaneously, several soldiers dropped abruptly, hitting the floor as dried husks. Hohenheim paid no mind to the roots crushing his legs and keeping him in place, instead sending several more thrusts of solid air into the State Alchemist. After a long moment, the woman, her wide, green eyes brimming with tears of pain, slumped over and fell to the floor, having been literally beaten to death. The roots around Hohenheim's legs withered and died and finally the older man noticed the pair of homunculi and waved them over.

"Can we get in now?" Pride asked eagerly, an odd reassurance washing over him at the sight of his father, yet Tobias stayed at the back of his mind.

"Should. We've rid ourselves of the main resistance... The door is open to us... In a sense."

All three turned towards the office door, which was still overcome by massive roots. All around them soldiers scrambled, picking off the last few sympathizers and gathering around who they regarded as their commander of the moment.

The homunculi walked up to the door, studying it for a few moments before trying their own methods to rid their entrance of the foliage. Greed turned back into his other form, clawing at the roots and trying to tear them apart. Pride stood back and bombarded the barrier with various transmutations. Nothing worked.

"Let me try." A voice calmly said from behind them.

They backed away before turning to regard the Colonel as he slipped on a new pair of gloves and snapped, sending torrents of fire onto the door, threatening to catch the entire structure ablaze, but focusing it on the roots, which were engulfed in flames before drying up and falling to the floor as ashes. In his awe, Pride looked back towards his former superior and noticed several other familiar faces gazing from behind him.

Hawkeye and Havoc stood on either side of him, guns ready. Armstrong stood flexing, like he always did, and the two privates, Shields and Josten stood nervously next to him. Haymans Breda and Vato Falman stood among them. The only one absent, Pride thought with a pang of guilt, was Fuery.

With the roots cleared, the rebels crowded around the door, hesitance lining the tense postures of each individual and creating a silence. What would they face on the other side? What if it was just a trap? Pride had little knowledge of the extent of the Führer's power and he guessed the same was true with the rest of his companions.

"What are you waiting for?" Asked Dylan, holding onto his brother by the elbow to guide him through the chaos.

They all looked to the teenager. It was _him, _after all, who had needed to get to the office. Slowly, Pride grasped the doorknob and let alchemy surge through him. The doorknob broke apart in his hand with a flourish of light and fell to the floor in pieces.

Pushing the door open, very slowly, the others readied themselves.

The door opened and revealed...

Nothing.

There was no one in the office. The others released a collective sigh of relief and crowded into the office.

Hohenheim pulled his son back through the throng of soldiers. Pride stumbled slightly and found himself face to face with his father. "What?"

The older man's face contorted with something akin to concealed guilt as he pulled a vial out of a pocket inside of his coat. "This," he said, holding it up. Inside, red liquid gleamed.

"Is that-?!" Pride felt a mixture of excitement and horror. Liquified philosopher's stone was the bane of his humanity, but it held him with desire like a drug.

"No, not quite," He said, also pulling out a metal canister and placing the vial within it. "It's difficult to explain... Take it if you find yourself unable to defeat him on your own." Hohenheim held it out to his son.

Pride took it reluctantly, rolling it in his hands before slipping it into his boot. "I don't understand."

Hohenheim shook his head. "You will if you use it."

The teenager's gaze lingered for a moment before he turned and started to walk towards the office. Hohenheim watched his son go. There was what waited underground for the boy and the old alchemist would make certain his son got the time and chance to confront it. Hohenheim was needed on the outside, with the soldiers, but he gave himself one more moment to look on after the boy with a doubtful smile. "Good luck, son."

In the office, Mustang immediately began giving orders to the remainder of the soldiers and, on the other side of the spectrum, Marcus guided his rebels. A combination of the two forces were sent to search the rest of the building for stragglers and hiding sympathizers. Although at first reluctant to the idea of combining the two armies, Pride's worries were quickly resolved when he saw how each rebel regarded each chimera and vice versa. Indeed, the teams would work well.

The same could not be said for the elder homunculus, who had arrived as sort of a surprise to soldiers who were fighting against homunculi themselves. Standing now towards the back, Greed folded his arms, silently looking down at the soldiers on either side of him, who glared at him out of the corners of their eyes.

Before Pride could confront them, Mustang approached him. "Well, here we are. Want to tell me what you're planning?"

The teenager looked around, avoiding that question, and something behind Greed caught his eye. Something odd about the bookcase he was standing in front of. Greed noticed his inquisitive look and turned, running his hand over the spines of the many texts. He looked back, and Pride knew what he was thinking. Running over, the homunculi began ripping books out of the shelves. They all fell loose until one dark, green binding offered some resistance, folding down like a lever instead of falling out of its place like the others. With a metallic groan, the bookcase shifted sideways and revealed another doorway.

It was caged, like a box, and a chain ran down the back wall, nestled in another molded piece of metal that seemed to go down to the floor and even past that.

"An elevator?" The Colonel had approached them from behind.

"Well, there's your answer. I have to go down."

"We're coming with you."

Greed stepped between them. "So am I."

Pride shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe you should stay with the others here, in case more sympathizers come."

Greed scoffed. "No one is going to be left once those chimeras sweep through this place. Besides," he added, glancing towards the soldiers, who still eyed him with distrust, "I think I'd be better appreciated underground."

After a moment of consideration, Pride acquiesced, stepping into the elevator. The Colonel, his lieutenant, and Greed followed closely behind. A small army. Pride was satisfied and confident that they wouldn't draw too much attention in the world below them, however many of the sympathizers, chimeras, or homunculi they might encounter.

With a final word from the Colonel to his rebels, the elevator slowly descended, dropping them into the stomach of Central.


	30. The Bird and The Worm

**I've been so awesome at updates lately, guys. I'm so glad I could get this uploaded tonight. Tomorrow night, I'm sure the next one will be ready to go! **

**Anyway, not much to say. Though, around this chapter and next chapter it gets kind of morbid, I guess. Not really. But... Even the tiniest bit of morbidity and I should give a warning, right? **

**Aw well, enjoy! **

**(Also, thanks to all of you who reviewed the last three chapters! It was nice seeing those in the inbox.)  
**

* * *

As they dropped into the underground city, a trip that took longer than expected, Pride let his mind wander. He was meant to confront Envy, that he knew. But, every time before he'd been beaten with less than unexpected ease. Pride wasn't much of a combatant, since his specialty was alchemy. Even once he regained his memories, the teenager was reminded of how well he used to fight, but try as he might, he couldn't move his body to match what he saw in his head. Perhaps after a period of training he might once again learn how to fight as well as he used to.

For now, Pride was only sufficient at hand-to-hand fighting at best, while Envy had several hundred years of experience behind him. Of that, Pride was sure.

Surely, the only way he would kill Envy on his own would be by the grace of whatever higher power was still watching and spiting him. He'd been lucky so far, but as far as luck went, he was probably running out, much like the stones in his body, the only things keeping him immortal. Except for the vial his father gave him, which Pride would refuse to use unless absolutely necessary.

"We're nearing the bottom." The sound of Mustang's voice brought Pride back from his reverie. "We might meet resistance. Prepare yourselves."

"Doubt it," Greed said. "This city is the home of Dante and her children. Any outsider who wants access has to fight for it."

Pride watched as he spoke and saw the depth in his elder brother's eyes, deep violet pools reflecting the past experience from which he spoke.

A rattle and shake grounded them, making them stumble as they hit the bottom of the elevator shaft. The interior door opened first, giving them a teasing glimpse through the cage doors, which opened a moment later, and they all stepped out into an extraordinary sight.

Save for Greed, they stopped in awe of the previously uncovered wonder of their world.

It was quite literally an underground city. The sky was absent of course, the city illuminated by a clear light, its origins unable to determine. Walls of sheet rock and hardened soil curved down for at least a mile, ending in the perimeter of the city. The city itself was a near perfect replica of Central, except for the absence of the military headquarters. Gray, stone buildings, offices, apartments, and streets were bland silhouettes against a colorless backdrop. Yet, it was breathtaking in its own way. It was spotless, as though even dust refused to touch upon the surfaces of these ancient buildings, and it shone like polished rock under the unnatural ambient light. Cool air rushed through the alleys and greeted the group, standing at the top of two staircases, nearly as intimidating as the cavern walls. From their height, they could see the entire city, a clear, incredible panoramic view of the city.

The only thing to tear them from their amazement was the reminder of their task ahead of them, vocalized by the one individual among them not astounded, but haunted. "We don't have much time. If what they plan for the city is true, the reason they've retreated down here must be because they're ready to put it into action," Greed said. And then, as an afterthought, he added, "Or something has gone horribly wrong."

The three of them stared at the homunculus for a long moment before he left them, starting the long trek down the endless staircase with each quiet tap of his shoes. They followed behind him quickly, after sharing a nervous glance between each of them.

Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, they noticed a detail that they had overlooked before: The city was devoid of people.

It was intended, Pride guessed. Obviously, Dante couldn't keep her children _and _followers in line. Who would live underground anyway? It was only necessary she keep her domain empty. Even so, that it was _so_ empty worried the teenager. Where was the lady in question?

As if reading Pride's thoughts, Greed piped up from ahead of them.

"The bitch should be around here somewhere."

Though a hint of uncertainty made Pride wary of his elder brother. An uncharacteristic rage was emanating from the homunculus like intense heat. He shook slightly, ever so slightly, as though in his anger there was also panic, and Pride fell back a few paces.

Somewhere in a housing district, Greed stopped abruptly and turned to Pride. "You should continue on alone. The city hall is around that corner," he said, pointing down the alley.

Pride gave him a sideways glance, suddenly unsure if he could trust the homunculus. Greed shook his head when he noticed his protege's suspicion. "I hate to leave you to him alone, kid, but you gotta handle Envy on your own." He frowned. "It's your fight."

The teenager turned to the Colonel, who had his eyes glued to Greed, eyes narrowed, until he noticed Pride's glance and returned it with a nod. With that, Pride took off, sprinting down the alley with speed that belied his attire, heavy boots hitting the ground hard, trying not to let the neutral surroundings unnerve him.

* * *

The three were left in the alley.

Behind him, Greed heard the clicks of two guns, poised to shoot, and turned, his expression flat.

Mustang flicked his gun in the direction of the retreating homunculus and inclined his head. "Were you serious about the city hall? _His_ fight? Or did you just want to get us alone?" He demanded.

Greed remained passive, moving his head slightly up, trying to catch a glimpse of something out of the corners of his eyes. "We _aren't_ alone."

* * *

The city hall was, simply put, massive. It was easily three city blocks away, so Greed was only vaguely correct in pointing him around the corner. Still, as long as Pride could see it, he continued on. He ran along what he guessed used to be a main street: One wide, cobblestone road running along stacked homes and flats, straight to the city hall.

The heavy boots still pounded along the street, seeking stable footing on the uneven pavement. His breathing was beginning to falter, he exhaled in short bursts, and sweat broke out on his forehead and on the back of his neck.

He came to the conclusion very quickly that if he spent enough time in the city, he would probably go insane.

The colorless architecture loomed over him as he struggled to run the length of the main road, every step seeming to take him no where, the city hall just as far away as it was minutes ago. His footfalls echoed off of every surface and glassless window, ricocheting back to him ten-fold and he found himself trying to match his steps with his own rapid heartbeat.

He ran past terribly peaceful absences of human faces and dizzying sidewalk doings, the cars and carriages in the streets and constant movement, and wished for anything that resembled reality; A puddle of rainwater, trash of the careless city-goers, dirt, oil, grease on the roads, _anything_. But it all remained hauntingly neutral, lifeless, endless. And it was here he was going to fight for his life and that, that promise that if he survived he could leave the city and never look back, was all that kept him going. That and the small metal canister bumping along in his boot.

Finally, he came within a short distance of the city hall, slowing his pace to a walk before stopping to catch his breath, beholding the sight of the massive building.

And more importantly, what hung outside of it.

Pride lowered his head, near cowering, as he approached the body that swung from the rafters. Was their effort all for naught? No, no. _His_ enemy was still alive. The military's enemy was... Was... Hanging like a macabre doll on a flimsy rope like an invitation into the city hall.

He received that invitation reluctantly and, although intimidated, continued up the steps to the impossibly tall doors and noticed that they were left ajar.

* * *

"We're so close to the stone, _you're _not going to stop us!"

Archer was almost foaming at the mouth, rotating his gun between the three of them. Both Mustang and Hawkeye returned the gesture, while Greed stood in the back with clenched fists.

"What do you think you're going to gain from it?" Greed asked, before Mustang could say anything. "Do you think that old bitch is going to help _you_ with the stone?"

Archer began to shake, his eyes widened as the truth sank into him. "You're wrong!" He cried. "She's going to use it to make all of us live forever!"

"You're insane!"

Archer turned on Mustang, gun poised to shoot. "What did you say?"

The Colonel lowered his gun, a daring move. "You went from a skilled soldier to a puppet of a false God, Frank."

"No, no! You're wrong!" In his frenzy, Archer fired his gun.

Greed was there in an instant, moving into the path of the bullet. It hit him in the chest, just above the stomach, and knocked him down. In the next instant, Archer was down, bleeding to death from a wound in the neck delivered by Hawkeye. Mustang stood over the homunculus, stunned. Greed lay still, breathing unsteadily as his body refused to regenerate.

"It's been too long since I had any stones in my system," He said, as the Colonel and his Lieutenant approached, "I've forgotten the pain of getting shot in the chest," He continued, cynically, laughing bitterly.

Mustang had kneeled down, examining the wound. "It's pretty bad, but I have an idea."

Without warning, the Colonel shoved his fingers into the wound, feeling around for the bullet. The homunculus lashed out, the amount of pain that accompanied having a bullet removed he had not felt for a very long time. Hawkeye took the recovered bullet from the Colonel as the homunculus relaxed, letting his head fall back on the stone ground with a groan.

"Now, just one last thing... Since you can't regenerate yourself, I'll have to cauterize the wound myself," He said, pulling on a glove and poising his hand over the bullet hole. Greed looked on uneasily, one calm moment of anticipation before he watched as the flames washed over his chest.

* * *

Pride leaned against the door and pushed. Surprisingly, it inched open, albeit slowly, and Pride straightened once there was just enough room for him to squeeze through.

He was met with darkness, with a few obelisk shaped columns intermingled among the blackness. Silence permeated his surroundings and he could only hear the blood pounding in his ears.

Quietly, Pride called out for him. "Envy!" Almost a whisper at first, escaping the void to carry only but a few meters around him, if he could guess. His voice grew louder as his anger elevated. The body hanging from the entrance was successful in wracking his nerves, shaking his confidence, but it wouldn't eradicate the sheer fury burning through the teenager now, as he was forced to wander in the dark, playing his brother's little game of hide and seek.

"Env-!" All at once the lights turned on. Pride found himself bathed in a golden, sickening light. He looked around, although temporarily blinded, and tried to observe his surroundings. He was in the center of a great ballroom. Balconies spiraled upwards, lining the spire that seemed to go on forever. And one dark spot stole his glance.

"So glad you could join us, little brother!"

Envy dropped from a higher balcony. When he landed, the floor around him broke and splintered, a surprising feature for polished granite. Envy, however, looked unfazed.

Gathering himself, Pride muttered, "Us?" He saw no one else.

"Our mother," He said, gesturing behind him, in the shadows which Pride had previously overlooked, and the teenager had to suppress a gasp by clasping a hand over his mouth. In the same manner as the Führer, Dante hung, the rope disappearing up towards the floor of the balcony above.

Envy let out a chilling laugh. "She said you took her last chance at life. So, there was no other way."

Clearly, Pride thought as he poised to thought, Envy had gone insane.

At least, more than he was before.

* * *

The Colonel and his Lieutenant stood a few feet from an unconscious homunculus. The pain of sealing a wound shut with straight fire would make almost anyone pass out. They left him laying there while they speculated among themselves.

"I wish I knew how the situation was holding up there," Mustang said, gazing towards the ceiling.

"I think it's more important to focus on the task at hand, sir."

Mustang blinked. "Maybe."

"Are you worried about the boy, sir?" Hawkeye asked quietly.

The Colonel considered it, letting his gaze fall from the ceiling back down to the ground beneath him. "He isn't a boy anymore, Lieutenant. Maybe today is his day to prove it."

Behind them, Greed let out a groan. "What... What happened?"

Mustang moved towards him and kneeled down. "You know, for such an indestructible creation, you could have handled that one better."

Greed grimaced back, as though he was offended. "I haven't eaten stones in so long."

"What about that ultimate shield of yours?"

"I'm turning more and more human every day, it slows my reflexes," He said, grinning. "You could thank me for saving your life." The homunculus pushed himself up by his elbows, staggered a bit, then stood straight. It took him a few moments to gather his bearings. His hand rose to his chest, poking at the singed and tattered cloth around the now closed wound and he quickly decided that a little third degree burn was favorable over bleeding out.

"I could say the same to you."

Greed grinned, showing rows of pointed teeth. It vanished and the homunculus looked around, gathering himself again. "Maybe we should go help the kid."

"No-" Mustang began. A low growl interrupted the Colonel with haunting reminiscence.

The three of them looked around and prepared themselves quickly, for they would surrounded by more chimera. It didn't seem as if they would reach Pride in time.


	31. If Cain Were Abel

**Heya, all. **

**I'd like to present the mildly anticipated final fight chapter!**

**I never expected to come this far with this story and I'd like to thank everyone who've been with me this long, as well as those who've been +faving and +alerting and reviewing, it all makes it worth it. =D**

**Two chapters after this, sort of both epilogues. **

**Enjoy.  
**

* * *

Pride hit the ground, hard. Head spinning, he tore his gaze from the glistening floor and threw himself sideways before Envy dropped again. The teenager could feel himself heavier, slower, more vulnerable. He almost wished he had eaten some stones before charging into the homunculus' domain. But that was neither there nor then.

Envy rushed in for another shot, his lithe and lighter homunculus form carrying him farther, faster. He jumped and was on Pride again in a moment, driving his fists into the teenager's chest. Pride could only take so much before his ribs threaten to crack. Hands crackling with alchemic energy, the teenager lashed out with his hands.

Electricity exploded like a bomb around them and when the smoke cleared, they both stood at the ready, on opposite sides of the ballroom. Envy stood calmly, fists clenching and unclenching restlessly. Pride grabbed onto his knees, hunched over and gasping for breath. When he'd gotten a hold of himself, Pride looked at his hands with disgust. Fuery's words echoed in his head.

_Only use alchemy when you need to, do things on your own whenever you can._

No, no... He needed to. He wasn't strong enough to defeat Envy on his own. His pride would have to take a backseat.

Looking up, he hoped Fuery wouldn't have been disappointed in him.

A mocking laugh emitted from the elder homunculus. It was deep, venomous, and chilled Pride to the bone. He wasn't about to question it. He knew the homunculus was mocking his weakness, his willingness to give up strength for humanity. Pride just looked back down, glaring. The homunculus was taking pity on him, letting him catch his breath, too busy laughing to notice when Pride had begun to breath easier and the air around him flickered as it often did when he was using alchemy.

He brought one hand up and slammed it down on the ground near his feet. The floor broke apart and rose, lifting him quickly.

Envy recovered quickly, his face a perfect picture of rage as he rushed over to the still-growing column of stone. "No no no! I won't give you time to escape!" He cried, pummeling away at the solid rock, chipping it off bit by bit. It continued to grow, although lopsided, and it threatened to collapse. It tilted, cracked, and Pride let it topple over, keeping his footing on the upturned side, riding it to the ground. Envy was directly beneath it. He stopped hitting the column and looked up in time to jump backwards, out of danger. Pride wouldn't let him. As he fell, he jumped and threw out his hands, alchemy flew and hit the floor, creating spikes to jut out of the ground around Envy.

The homunculus dodged every one of them, but Pride didn't let up on his alchemic assault. Envy was bombarded by bullets of stone the size of heads and arrows of electricity. He barreled through each stone ball, lashing out against them as though they were made of sand, causing them to break apart and send shards in all directions. "Is that the best you can do?" He yelled, laughing again as he rushed forward.

Pride was thrown back an impossible distance and hit the rear wall back-first. His head was thrown forward and he felt something snap, sending a pain down his back that threw his mind into agony. At first he couldn't move, couldn't blink, and he was sent into a panic. Then, whatever small bit of stone was still left in him unused had kicked in, warming his body and healing his broken bones. He tested his eyes, his fingers, and everything else and found he was completely rejuvenated. His body had saved him one last time.

He looked up and his eyes met with two cruel slits of violet.

Envy had always reminded him of a snake; Slick, thin, slimy, deceptive. His eyes, especially, when speaking aesthetically, were always like that of a reptile. They would occasionally, in moments of rage, grow in length and shrink in size and turn a deep, intimidating violet. Much like Greed's, though much more sadistic.

Pride had found himself caught in one of those moments. It sent him back to his time at Dante's house and he shrunk himself against the cold wall. In the next moment, he couldn't breathe. Envy had him around the throat.

"You don't know how long I've waited to kill you with my bare hands." Envy's voice was almost a whisper, but in Pride's aching head he heard screaming as his throat was constricted and the sound of his blood rushing through his ears muffled any other sound. He squirmed uselessly, trying to struggle free. Visually, the world turned gray and began to fade, Pride's clouded eyes widened to keep in the light.

Suddenly, through the haze, Pride could hear Envy cry out. It wasn't out of joy or success, so he knew he must have still been alive. No, instead he could make out both anguish and surprise. An agonized howl ripped through the hall and then, "Yes... _Yes!" _

On the floor, Pride opened his eyes and the blackness slowly faded away, colors bursting into his sight, including the sight of Envy, his arms covered in tattoos and his eyes glazed over in elation. Pride looked down at his own arms, his own tattoos gone. Transferred, but how?

"I knew if I brought you close enough to death it would happen. She told me it would happen!" Envy stared at his own arms rapturously.

Pride squinted. His head was still swimming, though he was breathing easy. Surprisingly, he watched as Envy walked away, to the other end of the ballroom, towards a darker part of the city hall. "No...", he hear himself mumble.

Envy made his way over to the other end of the city hall. Although a massive building, the homunculus was sure he'd rendered Pride incapable of moving comfortably long enough for him to preform his task.

Like a watchful mother, Dante hung lifelessly a few paces away.

Out of sight, there was a large transmutation circle painted on the floor in the blood of sympathizers, their bodies discarded against the wall. If anything, they had believed they died for a cause. Envy could case less, he was content with making them suffer.

He gently pressed his hands against the floor, over the circle. He was unsure how it would affect him, considering he'd never been able to use alchemy before. A warmth surrounded his body as the tattoos borrowed from his brother glowed and tugged at his skin. Slowly, the circle began to glow and light emanated from each curve and angle. Envy's eyes grew wide and he smiled, his shark-like teeth grinding away and his whole body shook with anticipation.

His excitement was short-lived, however. Without warning, the tattoos tore themselves from his skin, sinking into the circle. The air around the city hall grew utterly still. Only Envy's scream broke through the silence, until it was drowned out by the transmutation circle's own explosion of energy.

And the earth shook.

* * *

A chimera with green skin and one eye bared its teeth and lunged at Greed. The homunculus had his ultimate shield up, black diamond-hard skin creating sparks against the creature's fangs. The sparks stunned the chimera, and it fell back, whining. Greed brought down his foot on its neck and ended its agony quickly.

"There's no end!" Mustang yelled from his own battle. He and Hawkeye were caught in their own ring of fire, serving as a barrier between them and the rampaging chimeras. Every wave that ran towards them was caught in the fire and died from burns at their feet moments later, but they showed no sign of relenting. Mustang was at least grateful he could keep up a constant defense and not waste his energy. But the pile of chimeras was stacking up.

Then the ground shook beneath them.

"What was that?" Hawkeye managed through her frenzied shooting.

Before Mustang could respond, their attention was drawn back to the chimeras, who began to falter. They shook violently and howled in pain.

Greed's own adversary backed away and curled into itself.

All three of them looked at one another uneasily and stopped fighting.

Explosions broke out along the cavern wall. Large sections of the wall cracked and fell to the ground and what had appeared to be explosions at first turned out to be something creature-made. Tunnels were hollowed out of the cavern wall and ghastly creatures crawled out of them. From their vantage point, they howled and gnashed their teeth, reaching out with gnarled claws towards the three, who were but ants down below.

"What are they?"

"Geists," Greed said, "Souls."

The Colonel and his lieutenant turned back towards him. "How do you know?"

The homunculus finished off the cowering chimera before him and walked forward, eyes on the wall and the creatures pouring out of it. "I heard it from the doctor," He began. "He often spoke of a military project to keep the souls of men in containers, but at not as high of a cost as the homunculi. The end result was the geists. Gnashing, slobbering, diseased-ridden foul things. They ran amok through the labs that created them, until one such higher individual got them into submission. One of ours."

"Bradley." Mustang tried.

"Yeah. Before he was murdered, Pride – the original one – was the one who began and ended the geist project," Green stopped and shrugged, "That's where my knowledge ends. I can only assume he gave the formula to Dante, who created a bunch of them on her own, and then kept them locked up in the walls."

"But something... _Someone_ has triggered their release," Hawkeye said.

"So either our kid has failed... Or he's just hit a little bump in the road."

Mustang reloaded his gun, "Let's hope it's the latter." Despite the lack of danger, he began shooting at the stricken chimera.

Hawkeye nodded, "Right."

Greed stood there, watching the geists flood like water out of the wall, considering the unimaginable amount of souls Dante had obtained over the years to create so many geists. Surely, they were a mockery of the homunculi, something so easily made in large numbers, while the homunculi had to suffer and live with their torment. Every moment he stood there, watching their impending doom in the form of mindless corpses, his rage accumulated.

As he watched the geists' assault, it turned into a peculiar tactic. The larger portion of the geists emerging from the wall turned east and headed towards the elevator. Greed was sure there was no way they could have sent the elevator back up to the surface, but he then realized there was no need to worry, because the geists had begun to climb up the outer cage, gnawing through the metal to get to the interior. And it hit him.

The Colonel and Hawkeye had returned to Greed's sides, following his gaze to the onslaught. It would take some time still for the geists that hadn't separated to reach them. "I get it."

"Get what?" Mustang gave him a sideways glance.

"I get what they've been trying to do," Greed said, tearing his eyes away from the geists at the elevator to the ones headed their way. "They didn't want to sink your city like they did with this one. Dante's been making geists and storing them down here until she could use them. That's why they made the kid into the new Pride. He's the key."

The two gave him incredulous looks. "Why would she make geists?"

"To kill the citizens in Central. Make them do all of her work for her. Their souls would go with the geists and become the new philosopher's stone," Greed said, "She wouldn't want to destroy this city by letting Central come crashing down on top of it."

A small earthquake shook them.

Greed turned in the direction of the city hall. "Something's wrong."

They shared a look and began to move down the alley, when they realized the small portion of the geists that remained had made their way down the cavern walls and were loping down the street on all sides.

They stopped and, with no other option available, prepared themselves for battle once again.

* * *

Pride had failed, but how? Again, he stared at his own arms. They were pale, bare. He hadn't ever realized they were of any use other than for appearance and his own personal use of alchemy. Had he known he couldn't die for more than the obvious reason, he would have tried harder.

"I can still stop this..." He insisted upon himself.

He was weak, but he wasn't paralyzed. Pushing himself up was a struggle, his arms shaking and his legs heavy, but he forced himself onto his knees, so he could look around. He watched as Envy was momentarily consumed by the transmutation circle Pride had failed to previously notice, before he remembered the tremor moments before.

Clarity cut through his muddled thoughts like a knife and he couldn't let go of the revelation. He'd failed, but there had to be a way to correct it. If his own marks had made it happen, maybe they could also stop it.

Slowly, he reached for the metal canister in his boot. He pulled it out, held it to his face, and cursed his weakness. He shouldn't need it, but the fate of thousands of people couldn't depend on his own pride.

He pulled apart the metal casing and took out the vial with the utmost care. The liquid inside was still a familiar, brilliant red.

Instead of drinking it at that moment, Pride pushed himself to his feet and began walking towards the circle. Envy was still caught in its activity and didn't notice his approach. The teenager stood there swaying slightly as though he were sleepwalking, unable to tear his mind from the foggy state it was in, which was what Pride assumed was a side effect of having part of himself taken away.

That thought made him furious. Who was Envy, but a lesser form of Pride? What was Envy, but a self-destructive, pathetic characteristic... Taken on the form of a man who could barely handle not even a portion of Pride's power without slobbering over it like a zealot.

Without warning, Pride, still clutching the vial, approached Envy and delivered a swift kick to his side. Still enraptured, Envy didn't notice until he found himself on his back outside of the circle, forced back to reality.

"What-"

He saw Pride standing there, on the other side of the circle, vial in hand. His hand went to his chest, clutching it desperately. His heart raced, his breathing went shallow, and he struggled to speak.

"That... Vial..."

Pride smiled. The fight had finally tipped in his favor. Whatever was in the vial was obviously something of Envy's, which was a great possibility considering who gave it to him. Then it hit him.

Looking back at the vial, he realized something: It was blood. His father had intended for him to drink it, saying it would give him the strength he didn't have. It was a disturbing prospect, and what would that mean for his humanity? Only time would tell.

Meanwhile, Envy had managed to stand and begin to slowly approach, step after agonizing step, towards Pride, his hand still clutching his chest and his eyes glaring daggers.

Pride stepped back. "You know what this means, Envy," He goaded.

Envy just kept walking.

"This is something very important, isn't it?"

"You can't win... On your own," He choked out, arm outstretched to the vial, without realizing he was still far away.

Pride could feel his own namesake dwindle into nothing. He popped the top of the vial and held it up, watching the light of the circle play off of the red liquid, braced himself, and poured the contents into his mouth.

The vial fell to the ground and shattered around his feet. The teenager almost gagged on the burning copper taste. Grabbing at his throat, he tried to keep it down, failing to notice Envy regaining his strength. With the liquid in Pride's system, as it began to mix with his own fluids, its effect on Envy decreased. The homunculus was still weakened, but not as much.

Pride, in contrast, felt the concoction begin to change him. He felt himself grow stronger, rejuvenated, even. When he was confident he wouldn't throw up what he had just drank, he straightened just in time to see Envy hurtling towards him.

He didn't bother moving, instead he let himself get knocked down. They struggled on the floor for a few moments before Pride brought up his legs, tucked them under Envy's stomach, and pushed, knocking the homunculus off of him. Without the help of the concoction, Pride knew he would have never been able to do that.

Jumping back to his feet, he realized what was in that vial was much stronger than he had first thought. Envy lay paces away, steam rising from his stomach, his skin charred from where Pride had made contact with him. It didn't heal.

"Who gave you that vial?" Envy asked quietly, laying still.

"That's no concern of yours."

Envy's eyes lowered in sadness for the briefest of moments before he pushed himself up, feeling pain the likes of which he probably hadn't felt for hundreds of years. It seemed to only hurt his confidence, knowing someone had the secret to his demise.

They engaged again, a flurry of movements that made contact as much as they missed. The only difference was that Pride's attacks dealt permanent damage, and Envy soon found himself winding down.

"You'll never win this," Envy mocked, "You're already too late. The scourge you were created to activate is already on the move!"

Pride jumped back, a safe distance away from his adversary. "What do you mean?"

The homunculus laughed, "You didn't know? I _used you_ to begin the purge of Central! Their souls will make the new stone. And with that, I'll bring back mother and destroy you. A much needed reprieve after what seemed like so long, don't you think?"

"I'm not going anywhere." Pride charged, knocking a weak Envy to the ground, and pinned him there. Dealing blow after blow, he dealt as much physical damage as he could, never letting up, even as Envy struggled, Pride still had more strength over him.

Suddenly, the floor was aglow in crimson light. Pride stopped and realized they had landed close to the circle. Close enough for Envy to make contact with it. The teenager rose and backed away as he watched the curves of the circle extend to the rest of the room, settling at two other corners of the floor before moving back towards the middle and connecting in one bright, explosive, alchemic cataclysm.

The entire foundation of the city hall shook and shuddered. The balconies threatened to break and fall, but Pride noticed none of it. While Envy cackled a few feet away, Pride was on his hands and knees, throwing up the concoction. He heaved painfully, dark red liquid spilling onto the circle, until a kick to the chest sent him sprawling.

Envy stood over him, and Pride realized that the fight had tilted in his favor once again. But Pride didn't give up. Envy might have had his arms, but Pride still had the rest of him to use. Beckoning any remaining will he had left, Pride closed his eyes and focused his thoughts on the circle underneath him.

He heard a peculiar sound and opened his eyes. Envy was in his previous position, throwing up countless stones to spill out uselessly onto the circle. The teenager pushed himself up, taking advantage of Envy's weakness to do what he intended to do.

He walked to the original circle, fell to his knees and concentrated. He could read the alchemic workings and identify the equations Envy had used his arms to activate. It was like a puzzle in his head, a visual device he could reach out and touch. A warming sensation overcame him as the circle glowed brighter and he worked to undo what Envy had done. It wouldn't be enough to just reverse it, but he would have to completely destroy it.

Opening his eyes, he watched as the tattoos from his body slid off of his skin like water and spread out onto the floor, making new patterns on the circle and he felt the entire composition of the circle change. His let his head hang back as his eyes opened wide, the clouded orbs glowing with an inner light as he worked to complete the process, time slowly running out...

* * *

The Colonel bat his hands against the geist that was on top of him, clawing at his face.

Hawkeye had established herself on higher ground, picking off geists with her true aim before they could reach her, every moment of respite spent in protecting the Colonel.

Greed had his own to handle, slashing away at the countless mindless coming upon him.

"We can't stay here!" The Colonel yelled above the fray.

"There's no where else to go! I think the kid failed!" Greed yelled back, dodging a swipe to the chest and delivering a retaliatory slash back. Already he felt the fight wear down on him. He was exhausted and he'd been avoiding using his left arm, it hurt severely to move it.

"You've got to believe in him!"

"We can't go on like this forever-" As he spoke, the geists around them froze in place, shuddering. It seemed to go on for several long moments, in which the three of them gathered around back to back. All around them, the geists seemed to visibly fail. One by one, the creatures fell like broken machines, a distinctive white smoke drifting up from the corpses.

In the distance, the geists climbing the metal shaft of the elevator toppled off like loose stones and gathered in large piles on the ground, their collective spirits rising up like a great cloud of smoke.

Greed walked over to one of the corpses and threw a grin back at Mustang. "Well, I guess you were right."

* * *

Envy's scream tore through the deafening roar of the transmutation circle.

Pride never took his eyes off of the circle, even as alchemy devastated the space around him. Envy was farther away, using the tattoos he'd taken from Pride to hurl lances of electricity and varies broken off pieces of the faltering building towards the teenager.

Each attempt broke off a few feet from the homunculus, who was actively protected by something unseen. He flinched as every dangerous object thrown at him came close, but quickly settled back into deep concentration.

"Pay attention to me!" Another storm.

"You can't _do this!_" Another section of the floor thrown, only to break apart and fall to the ground around Pride in small shards.

A small mound of debris had accumulated around him as he opened his eyes, finished. The hair on his neck stood as he felt imminent threat and slammed his hands down, the ground rising around him, growing and pushing past the debris, creating an impenetrable barrier.

Inside, he hugged his knees, as his small fortress was battered from the outside, and thought. He'd finished the task he never previously knew he had, he knew that for sure. It was over, and Envy was not happy about it. In his defense, Pride had taken his last hope at living, especially now that the last of the philosopher's stone had left his system and Dante was dead.

Dust and small stones rained down on him from above. His protection was faltering, breaking apart. Each tremor shaking more dust and chipped rock from above and he pulled his arms over his head to shield them.

Then it all stopped, replaced instead by stillness and a muffled noise.

Pride acted slowly, lifting his arms down from over his head and pushing himself to his feet. The walls around him crumbled down and Pride saw the source of the noise.

Envy was on the floor, hunched over. His skin was all different colors at once, the hair short, long, dark, light, his limbs were different sizes, the voices different tones. He turned towards the teenager, his eyes two different sizes, shapes, and colors, but both narrowed in fury.

He'd tried to change his form, but it was backfiring.

"You can't keep your form," Pride tried, hesitantly.

"I can't... Stop," Envy managed, his voice both male and female, various pitches and there was even an unfamiliar accent lost somewhere in the mix of different personalities. He rose, stumbling on uneven legs, looking at his own hands in horror, even as they continued to change form. "This... Why is this happening to me?" He sputtered, trying to rein in control, only succeeding in tripping over his own words.

Pride knew. Even with the concoction expelled from his system, its potency against the homunculus still remained. Greed told him once: Expose a homunculus to something from its past and it starts to malfunction. It was sort of a fail safe for its creator. Pride understood, and although it was revolting, it was also ingenious.

And because of it, Envy was no longer as invulnerable as he thought. Without the stones he was weaker, while in the proximity of his blood, he might as well have been human.

Looking up from his hands, Envy glared at the silent teenager and spat, "It doesn't matter. This won't stop me."

Envy charged at him, a move that had become predictable, but none the less deadly. Pride rolled, throwing his hands out recklessly to send lightning in the direction he thought Envy would be in. The pained groan told him he had guessed correctly. Envy was on him in the next moment, however, having grabbed him by the front of the shirt and picking him up to eye level. He was thrown across the room, skidding to a hard stop at the foot of a marble column, the impact wracking his spine. A kick to the stomach knocked the air out of his lungs and he suddenly missed the power he'd gotten from the vial of blood.

Kick after kick was delivered, sending Pride dangerously close to blacking out. When he thought he couldn't take another hit, they stopped. Envy had kneeled down to his level, staring into his own clouded eyes. "You see? Hohenheim's perfect son can't hold a candle to his perfect failure."

Pride coughed, tiny red flecks littered the ground.

"I was his son once too, you know. I was his _first_ son," Envy said, walking a circle around the fallen homunculus, his body still in chaotic limbo between an innumerable amount of forms, but he didn't seem to notice anymore. "I died from mercury poisoning, as I was told, and once Hohenheim brought me back as _this_, he was more than willing to begin again with his new family," He explained, walking away, towards the middle of the ballroom. "Suddenly we don't seem so different, do we, little brother?"

"I'm nothing like you." Pride spat, trying to pick himself up off of the floor, but it proved to be too painful. More than a few of his ribs had been broken or bruised.

Envy kept his back to him. "We're exactly alike, even down to the curse we were forced to bear."

Pride managed to bite back the pain and prop himself up against the column, all without Envy noticing. "_You_ turned me into this! I didn't ask for it."

"Oh, yes you did! You asked for our help in bringing your brother back," Envy countered, turning on the teenager. His eyes were aglow with wicked cruelty. "Never had we ever encountered anyone so stupid! So... Desperate."

When Pride said nothing, Envy turned again, retreating back into his reverie.

Then it hit him. _Human..._

It was his only chance, while the homunculus was distracted.

Envy kept his back to him as he spoke. "And when I'm done with you, I'll find that brother of yours and use him to bring back mother. She'll know how to fix the circle... She can fix all of this... And this city will crumble into nothing!"

At the mention of his brother, a fury stirred in Pride that made him get to his feet, although clutching at his chest, cradling his injured ribs. But he had to keep Envy going. "You stay away from Alphonse. He did _nothing_ to you!"

"Stay down!" Envy had turned, sending a thread-like river of electricity into the homunculus, shocking his nerves. He hit the ground hard again, burning up, and the pain in his chest doubled. He didn't move for several moments, and Envy took that as a sign to begin speaking again. "You _and _him are the reasons that bastard abandoned Dante and I," He said.

Through half-closed eyes, Pride watched as Envy turned around again, confident that he had subdued the homunculus permanently.

Shutting his eyes tightly, he pushed himself to his hands and knees silently, clenching his teeth against the pain. He opened his eyes slightly, watching as Envy kept his eyes on Dante's body, his focal point for his rant.

There was debris scattered everywhere from their fight. A fateful sharp-edged piece of the floor lay within his reach. Pride took it into his hand, pushed himself to his feet, and supported himself against the marble column.

Every nerve in his body was screaming as he took one step. Envy kept talking, lost in his story, lost in his vision of Dante, the full reality of the situation not having sunk in completely yet. Another step, he froze, his muscles tightening against the movement. He breathed out deeply, silently, and kept going. Envy seemed just as enraptured as he had moments before, his paranormal intuition hindered by the fact that without the stones, he was turning human.

_And humans only have one life._

Pride stopped short a few feet. Even without intuition, any human can feel when someone approaches them closely from behind. He waited, the marble shard poised.

"There was only ever us. Only the homunculi grasp the reality of life itself. It's all a joke. There's no point for us but to suffer, to indulge in what we were meant to. Even that traitor, Greed, knew that," Envy said. He threw out his arms. "But we're the ones who'll go down in history." Pride froze. " We're the ones who'll reshape this world into what it's meant to be. We'll rid it of those who opposed us, who wronged us, who _outlawed_ our very existence. Starting with you and your brother, and Hohenheim..." His voice dripped with venom. He slowly lowered his arms, his demeanor changing completely. "Needless to say... I never could handle abandonment well," He finished, slowly turning, his hands crackling with energy to deliver the killing blow. Pride pushed off, silently launching himself towards the homunculus, marble shard outstretched.

"Especially not to some bastard and his _perfect _sons-" He'd completed his sentence on the turn, but it was cut short.

His eyes widened, the energy from his hands dissipated into nothing, and he slumped forward. Pride was there to catch him, the shard buried deep into Envy's midsection. Without stones to regenerate, blood continuously dripped to the floor, creating a puddle. Pride forcefully pulled out the shard and dug it in again, and Envy jerked painfully, his jigsaw form going back to its original composition.

Pride pushed him to the floor, shard in hand, and walked a circle around the dying homunculus, just as he'd done to him. The last remnants of philosopher's stone in the homunculus' system were trying to save him; Little sparks of energy danced around the wounds, trying to stitch the hopelessly lacerated skin and tissue back together.

The teenager wouldn't let that happen. Throwing the shard aside, he sat on his knees over the homunculus' chest, leaning down to look at him, grabbing him by the collar, and lifting his head up so their faces were just a little less than an inch apart. "I might be a homunculus. I might be one of your lifeless, wretched kind. I might have hurt people in the past, indulged in that cursed stone, and let myself forget why I became this in the first place," Pride whispered, and noticed a small trail of blood falling from his lips, a symptom of his injuries. He had to finish the job or else he'd pass out before it was over.

He hesitated, dropping Envy's head and attacking his throat instead, wrapping his hands around it and digging his thumbs into the pulse, which had quickened. He leaned down again, "But I will never be like you." His voice was barely a whisper, spitting out the words like they were poison, "And I will never let anyone _like_ you exist again." He pressed deeper, "I will hunt your kind to the ends of the earth."

Surprisingly, Envy chuckled. A horrible, raspy sound that could barely be heard at all. Envy's violet eyes locked onto his.

"If you think yourself so capable of eliminating your own kind, little brother, then you're already living a lie," Envy whispered, bringing his hands up to weakly tug at the hands around his own throat. "You're no better than the rest of us..."

Envy's hands unfurled from Pride's to fall gently to the floor beside him. His violet eyes became dark and clouded and fell to the side, as did his head, peacefully, as though he'd suddenly gone to sleep.

Releasing his grip on the homunculus' throat, Pride leaned in and whispered, "Yes, I am."

He rose shakily, stepping over the homunculus and stumbling a few feet away before he took a look back over his shoulder. Envy was utterly unmoving, his body completely devoid of color, like a black and white photo, and his features began to melt, returning him to his purest form: Nothing, a blank slate.

Satisfied, the teenager turned and walked away. He was close to the doors when his legs would carry him no farther. Succumbing to exhaustion, Pride lowered himself to his knees and fell forward, still cradling his chest, and closed his eyes.


	32. The End

**Second to last chapter here. Next chapter is going up immediately after this one.**

**I'd like to thank all of you readers who've stuck with me these couple of years. I couldn't have done it without the reviews and the favorites. Thank you all so much, it's been fun. :3  
**

* * *

The morning light drifted in through the blinds, illuminating the tiny particles of dust floating about the room. The winter air had yet to permeate the windows, so the room was somewhat cozy.

There was one blond man sitting in a chair in a corner of the room, an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth and his blue uniform was stained with splotches of blood. He held an open book in his lap with one hand, the burned and tattered edges of his sleeve leaving little flecks of ash on the page, while his other hand was occupied in a brace. He seemed unworried by it however, his face held a small smile. His injuries were not unlike those of his fellow soldiers, countless bruises and cuts, and other broken bones and sprained joints. It was just business as usual.

In the hospital bed, the patient stirred with a groan, disturbed by the light of the early morning. The soldier looked up from his book, watched him for a moment, then put down the book and walked over to the bedside. He lifted the patient's wrist and felt for the pulse, patted down his side to check for any loose stitches, and then went back to his seat, satisfied, to read and wait until the patient woke up.

The teenager never expected to wake up in a hospital. He'd expected to die in that underground city, next to his damned brother in a pool of his own blood.

He opened his eyes slowly, adjusting to the clean, white walls of the hospital room, and he realized he wasn't alone. "Who-" He began, stopping when his voice became harsh.

The soldier looked up and grinned, "Hey Ed, welcome back to the living. Nice hair cut," He said, then pointed to his own head, "Like a younger me."

_Oh,_ he realized, _Havoc. _

"What happened?" He asked.

Havoc gave him an unsure smile, worry painted his features. "You don't remember?"

The teenager shook his head, "No, it's not that," he said, "I should have died back there, I shouldn't be here. Who did this?"

"You mean who got you out of there?" Havoc asked. "Well, you'll get a chance to thank him later. In the meantime, there are some people who'll want to speak to you before you rest again."

As if on cue, the door open, and a motley crew of battered and bloodied soldiers stepped into the room. Havoc and Edward turned, startled, and watched as the group settled into formation, a familiar face at the front.

"Good to see you up and alive, Edward," said the Colonel.

The teenager looked down at his hands. With his tattoos gone, his spirit somehow felt lighter. He was alive. Yes, and now it was probably time to start embracing his past, regardless of how disconnected he still felt towards it. Over time, that would hopefully pass.

Edward looked up with bright, golden eyes, no longer clouded, and nodded. "Good to be back."

Hopefully, that reluctance to accept life would also pass.

"You feel fit enough to walk around? We should talk," The Colonel said, turning towards the door. He waited as his companions left.

Edward nodded, swinging one leg over the side of the bed before regretting it. Biting back a gasp of pain, he realized he was no longer invulnerable. With a little weight shift, he was able to get out of the bed and stand, and even walk, though not quickly, and Mustang helped him along with an arm over the shoulder.

They ended up outside of the hospital, the Colonel sitting on the steps and the teenager standing a few feet away from him. The next several moments were silent until the Colonel broke it.

"So, are you ever going to tell me what's happened since you disappeared?" He asked, looking up at the teenager.

Edward looked back at him, noticing how severe the cuts on his face were. They were still red and swollen, and would probably leave scars. His left sleeve was torn from the shoulder, his arms covered in bandages. It seemed he too, had his own story to tell.

Edward would have to share his story later. He looked back up, away from the Colonel. "I have to sort it all out myself first. I don't..." He began, staring at his hands, "I don't know if I can say I'm back to normal. I don't know if all of the Edward you all say you know is still inside of me."

The Colonel seemed to visibly take that into consideration. "I see." A few more moments of silence, then, "How are you holding up?"

"I feel... Human," Edward looked over his arms and blinked his eyes, both still hurt. "I'm surprised I even woke up here at all."

"We weren't just going to let you die down there. We fought with the worst kinds of creatures so you could take care of your own business."

Edward smiled. "The old memories I have tell me I should be surprised that you're the one who supported me in the first place."

The Colonel chuckled, staring off into space for a few moments before starting with an, "Oh!" He patted his pockets until he pulled out a silver object, a familiar object. "I almost forgot – Your watch. You left it behind." He tossed it to the teenager.

Reaching out for it with a little more enthusiasm than he expected from himself, he caught it and held it carefully, running his fingers over the insignia. Faded memories assailed his mind, leftover experiences and emotions, filling in gaps without giving him the reeling sickness that he'd felt before. When he'd regained control of his coherence, he looked down at the watch, his fingers clutching it, shaking. He pushed the spring-loaded button at the top. It popped open and revealed a date. _Don't forget. _Closing it, he turned it over, looking at the name imprinted on the cold metal.

_Fullmetal Alchemist._

With a surge of energy, Edward pulled his arm back and launched the pocket watch as far as he could throw it.

The two of them watched as it sailed over the stairs, several visitors and other patients – there were many since the fight for Central – threw curious glances at the flying object, and heard the clatter as it collided with the sidewalk on the other side of the street.

"I'm not," he began, taking a deep breath, "I'm not the same anymore. I'm not who I was before this," he paused again, collecting himself as the Colonel stared.

"Fullmetal is gone," he tried.

Edward nodded. "Literally and figuratively."

The Colonel stood, nodding, a sly smile spreading across his face. "That's not so bad. He was a pain in the ass anyway."

As Edward inhaled to argue, his own wicked smile forming, there was a sharp whistle from nearby. The Colonel was the first to notice, flicking his thumb in the direction of the sound. "There's your next visitor," he said, as Edward began to wonder who would need to hide to meet with him, "Just meet me back in the lobby when you're done."

As the Colonel stood, with some difficulty, and started back up the stairs, Edward turned back towards the sound and the direction he was pointed in. Over to the side, the edge of the stairs cut off and dropped to the ground as a sheer wall, growing shorter and shorter towards the base of the staircase. To the edge of the stairs was where he slowly walked to, still stiff from the fight, which was another thing he would have to carefully mull over in the days ahead.

"Hello?" he said quietly, peering over the edge. The face that looked back was comfortingly familiar, yet different.

"Hey, kid."

It was Greed, and yet it wasn't. His features were less sharp, less sculpted, and held the common imperfections every human had. Instead of razor-sharp fangs, slightly-sharp teeth filled a mouth with small wrinkles piercing the corners. One arm was in a sling, like the Colonel, but otherwise he seemed unharmed. Another interesting feature was he was sporting a blue military uniform, something Edward wasn't entirely sure Greed didn't steal.

"You look... Different."

"I feel different! I can't say I know what human feels like, but that's the only way I can describe it, though it comes with a price," he said, nodding at his injured arm.

Edward grinned, "Has it been a while since you were unable to regenerate?"

Greed gave him a complacent look, something strikingly uncharacteristic. "Too long."

"And the getup?"

"Your friends in the military gave it to me. Some people here know what I look like, but seeing me in this might keep them from bringing any attention to the fact that I'm hanging around."

"Then... Why are you in the bushes?"

"Just because I can disguise myself to walk around in public doesn't mean I want to. But," he added, when Pride gave him a look, "I do like the suit."

The teenager grinned, then recalled something important. "Say..." he said as he climbed onto and sat down on the edge of the staircase, leaning forward, "Were you the one who got me out of there?"

Greed had taken out another cigarette and began smoking. "Yeah, that was me. When those geists disappeared, we figured something good happened," he took a drag and winced, "But you didn't show up again. I told the Colonel and his sharpshooter to get back to the surface while I went to go find you."

"And?"

"I don't think I've ever walked in on a messier situation. You two really beat the hell out of each other."

"What about your arm?" Edward wondered how the man could carry or drag him out of the city hall and back to the surface with a bum arm. As far as he knew, Greed had stopped eating stones around the same time he did, for the most part, and there shouldn't have been anything to allow Greed to avoid sustaining an injury.

"Took care of it when I got back here." That made sense. The two were not ones for sappy moments, so the knowledge of knowing what his brother and mentor had sacrificed to get him out of there served enough as gratitude for the both of them.

Still. "Oh," he said. "Thanks."

"Yeah," he said, a harsh cough interrupting whatever else he might have said. With a scowl, he threw the cigarette to the side. "I guess now that I'm human, those things could kill me. Too bad." He stamped it out, then looked back up at Edward. "You should meet your group back in the hospital. I think there's someone there you'll want to see." He turned and began to walk away.

"What about you?" The teenager called after him. "Greed?"

By then he was out of sight, not far, but out of sight. "It's Hunter now, remember?" A voice said back from the bushes, "I'm off to see a certain girl."

The teenager smiled. "Oh," he murmured. He wanted to stop him, ask him more questions, maybe make sense of it all and try to decide how to go on, but he didn't. He waited until he no longer heard any evidence of his friend's departure, until all was silent except for the quiet commotions of the patients around him.

Then, instead of immediately returning to the hospital, Edward climbed back over onto the stairs and lowered himself to a sitting position. He pulled his knees in and rested his chin on his crossed arms. Grateful was he for whoever took it upon themselves to clean him up once he was delivered to the hospital, since there was risk in walking around covered in blood and tattered clothing, reeking of alchemy.

From the hospital, Edward could look out and see what remained of Central Headquarters. Parts of the outer walls were completely blown out and those fragments were collected at the base of the building. The large tree still remained on the top floor, protruding from the interior, threatening to succumb to gravity and fall, which would only cause greater devastation to the already destroyed building and the area around it, deemed a "ground zero" regardless of the lack of any natural originator. There were workers milling around, picking up small bits of debris with their hands, sweeping up smaller shards, or attaching chains to the larger boulders to be moved away using machines. The interior, Edward thought, must match the exterior, since there were just as many demolished rooms within the building, let alone the smoke residue and the dead bodies left behind. Most of the fallen might have already been cleared out, given burials and otherwise. None left to rot, hopefully.

"Mr. Elric, sir." A younger masculine voice pulled him from his reverie, and he turned quickly, startled a bit at both his complacency and the name used, and saw a novice warrant officer. The young man was saluting him, his mouth stretched into a thin line. From the looks of the bandages that were firmly placed around his neck and shoulder, the officer had fought for Central as well.

Standing, Edward found himself unsure of what to do, except to stiffly return the salute and look at the officer expectantly. "What?"

The officer continued. "I've been asked to find you. You're wanted in the lobby," he said, "It seems they can't wait. I apologize if this is an inconvenience, sir."

"You can drop the title. I'm sure you've done more to deserve it than I have," Edward returned with a smile, "Sir."

The officer grinned back. He didn't speak. Instead, he bowed his head and gestured for the teenager to follow him, conflicted between the desire to thank him for the compliment and his obligation of respect and consideration to a higher ranking individual, who apparently the teenager was.

They returned to the lobby, filled with injured soldiers and officers, their friends and family, civilians caught somewhere in the fray, and other patients, captured sympathizers, and chimeras. Edward watched as uneasy doctors carefully examined irate chimeras and officers on crutches guarded barely conscious Führer supporters. The younger officer was called over by a senior soldier and the teenager was left to find his own party.

They were in the corner of the lobby, collected, drinking coffee, and conversing quietly. Edward, fortunately, could recall everyone. The Colonel was sitting with Hawkeye and Havoc, and spoke with them about something in a hushed tone, pulling out a few sheets of paper and laying them out on the coffee table in front of them. No one seemed to notice them.

As the teenager walked up, he named off the rest in his head, checking his memory. There was Armstrong, Breda, and Falman, and even Shields, Josten, and-

"Al?"

He, along with those around him, turned to the teenager with a quizzical look. He had short blonde hair, like Edward's, but with faded blue, almost gray, eyes. Those eyes immediately widened and his mouth stretched into a smile. "Ed!"

Alphonse ran up to meet his brother, who was still dumbstruck by the reunion as arms wrapped around his midsection and he was pulled into a hug. "You have no idea how worried I've been," he said, pulling away and grabbing his brother by the shoulders, "You have to tell me everything."

There was a lot to tell everyone, because everyone would be asking. There was no reason to worry about being open with that information, save for personal discretion, because he had no more enemies, and the homunculi who were left had disappeared.

"I will, Al, I will, but..." What to say? "Where were you during the rebellion?" Edward got a good look at his brother, who actually had black eye and a few visible cuts.

"I was out on the streets," he said, letting go of his brother and gesturing to the doors of the hospital, "It was intense out there once the battle moved, though that was after they were stretched thin and trying to run away."

Edward nodded, his eyes sweeping the other military personnel before settling once again on his brother. "We can talk all about this later, I promise. What's going on here?"

"A lot, brother. Since there's no more Führer, there's a conflict in power. The highest-ranked out of the remaining soldiers have been hammering out the details since the battle officially ended," Alphonse explained as he led his brother to a chair by Mustang and the others, letting him sit and taking a seat near him.

"The Führer-" Edward began.

Mustang cut him off, leaning in from beside him, "Don't worry about him. We found his body, along with the woman's, and took theirs and Archer's back to the surface with us." He leaned back, Hawkeye and Havoc watched him carefully. "It's been kept on a need-to-know basis."

"I see," Edward said, "What's going to happen now? Without the Führer..."

"It's been agreed upon by a circle of the highest individuals that there's no need for another individual leader," he explained, "Rather, a group of advisers to decide things for the country based on a majority vote, not personal opinion. In other words, a parliament."

The teenager took it in. "That would be a nice change."

"Yes," Mustang said, "But it's still up to the public, and we need to rebuild what we lost before we propose such an idea."

"Right... There's still a lot to do," Edward said, picking up the pages that were set on the coffee table. Upon closer inspection, the teenager realized it was one long list of names. And he realized what meaning it held when he read the first name on the list: _Kain Fuery_.

* * *

Hundreds were gathered. It was possibly the biggest peaceful gathering of the military the country had ever seen.

"We're gathered here today..."

Despite the number of attendants, it was not a happy gathering, unless you associate closure with happiness.

"To honor those fallen..."

Edward zoned out, too focused on the sea of black uniforms and clothing stretching out in front of the speaker, and the sea of white caskets behind him. The Colonel stood next to him, biting his lip, bottling up the emotion of the moment. In his head, he recalled his own friend's funeral. A smaller, more exclusive gathering, but none the less devastating.

They all stood together. The Colonel with his lieutenants, their friends, Edward and Alphonse, their father, even Greed, now Hunter, and Anita, and even the chimeras. And an innumerable amount of others around them.

The teenager would have to talk to the Colonel about Fuery later, since he knew him well, and the young soldier didn't have any family. There was too much about the young man on Edward's mind.

The speaker began going through the list. Every so often, a small cry would be heard in the crowd, and tears were seen throughout the congregation.

Fuery's name was first, so the soldiers nearest Edward looked at one another and nodded, knowing what each other was thinking.

There was too much to think about at that moment. Good people were dead. Soldiers, chimeras, even a few civilians. Good people, for the most part.

But, the gathering represented a lot more than the passing of those who died during the battle. It symbolized new beginnings, the start of a better day, and even before they began to rebuild their society, it exhibited their perseverance and selflessness.

And it showed the hope that drives all people to do the unimaginable.

* * *

**The end.**


	33. Epilogue

Two Months Later

Only a couple of months since the insurrection, Central began to rebuild itself, architecturally and culturally. Headquarters was returning to its former glory, with workers on suspended platforms along the sides of the structure, patching and painting, and alchemists worked everywhere, their energy fixing what physical labor couldn't.

A young man with short blonde hair and a casual coat walked through the courtyard of the building, heavy boots scraping along the ground. He came to see the progress on the complex, specifically beneath the surface. To his pleasure, his proposal to collapse the underground city was accepted, and the operation was completed not an hour earlier. Then he walked, giving himself a relaxing moment to counteract all the stress he'd been experiencing the past few months. It was only a moment, but it was enough. He had recovered from the battle, physically and emotionally. Mentally... He was still working on that. Fighting for your life leaves a scar.

Then someone walked past him. A tall, muscular figure in a blue uniform, specially made, like they were for all chimeras. Scales revealed themselves in parts that the uniform didn't cover up. They ran from beneath his collar up his neck, and faded away under his chin, framing an angular face with piercing reptilian eyes. A tail dragged behind him.

They exchanged greetings, the young man nodding and smiling, and the chimera smiling in turn, showing rows of pointed teeth.

All chimeras who had participated in the fight against the Führer, and all those who were in hiding since before the civil war, were allowed to continue existing and pursue lives in the cities. Those chimeras who were created by the military and used against the rebels were either incarcerated or executed as both war criminals and out of an act of mercy, since most of the chimeras were unstable and engineered to be violent. Their fates were a circumstance that most of the surviving and stable chimeras had accepted and supported, for the most part. The surviving chimeras were given the opportunity to join the military, which a surprising number of them did. The rest were free to go about their lives.

All things considered, the young man could call himself satisfied with the way things turned out.

"Good to see you, sir."

Edward Elric looked up from the ground, where his gaze had been while in thought. "Oh," he said, smiling, "Hello, Marcus."

The chimera smiled back, his eyes wrapped, but still hidden under a hood he'd requested on his own blue uniform, long enough to hang over his eyes, which gave his appearance an air of mystery. His sharp chin now sported a light layer of stubble. "I heard the operation was a success."

Edward knew that by "operation", he meant the final demolition of what lay beneath Central. "Yeah, it went well. Perfectly, actually. They buried the elevator shaft and built over the entrance. There's nothing down there anymore."

Marcus nodded, his smile turning to a thoughtful frown as he recalled the evil that dwelt in the now non-existent underground city. "I'm glad."

"How are you holding up?"

"I'm doing well. I'm grateful for the offer to join the military. And, all things considered, the soldiers have been easy on my kind." Another smile.

Edward smiled again, "I'm glad."

* * *

Edward walked further along the streets of Central, towards the civilian district, a few miles from the headquarters, where he, along with a few of his closest acquaintances, lived.

On his way, he ran into someone familiar.

"Dad!" he called to the man's back, running up to match his pace.

"Ah, Edward. What brings you out on such a nice day?" Hohenheim turned and gave him a fatherly smile.

"Official business. You know."

"So the underground city is gone?"

His son nodded.

"I'm glad. After so many years I can finally begin to put my sins to rest. Starting with that damned city," he went on, holding his chin, until he realized himself again and looked up to face his son. "Thank you."

He nodded as they passed Edward's home that he shared with his brother, a small apartment given to them by the new government. Quickly, he put a hand on his father's shoulder. "I'll see you later, dad." Backtracking, he got to the apartment and swept through the door, down the hallway, and into another room.

Mustang looked up from a newspaper. "I thought we had the day off."

Edward hung up his coat and took a seat by the window. "Yeah, but I went to oversee the destruction of that city."

"And?"

"It's gone, and headquarters still stands."

Mustang watched him for a moment, "I'm glad. There were so many things that could have gone wrong."

Alphonse arrived from the kitchen, interjecting himself into the conversation. "I heard right? It went well?"

Edward nodded, smiling. In the past two months, he and Alphonse had spoken about almost everything, catching up and making Edward feel as close to normal as they could manage. There was not only the matter of rebuilding their city, but also their relationships.

"Oh, good. I'm glad. A lot less to worry about, right?

"Less, at least."

"Now there's just the problem of all of the despots and residual sympathizers emerging from the woodwork. We're on the brink of another civil war," Mustang added.

"We'll get them, too. Once parliament is implemented, things will be better," Edward said.

A complacent silence passed among them, before Mustang checked his watch and set down the newspaper. "I've got an appointment," he said hurriedly, getting up from the couch, grabbing his own coat from the hanger, and rushing out of the apartment.

"I wonder where he's got to get to so urgently," Alphonse said, leaning against the frame of the door to the kitchen.

Edward shrugged and picked up the discarded newspaper, a smile spreading across his face. "Wherever he's going and whatever he's doing, I'm sure it's of the _utmost_ importance."

* * *

The Colonel strode down the street, comfortable to be in casual clothes instead of his usual uniform, especially on a warm spring day. He kept his gaze to the ground as he walked, looking up only at the exact moment a familiar man walked by.

He looked different since the last time Mustang saw him, with short black hair, dark eyes, and just a different overall look to him. And he had moved in by the Elric brothers and their father with his own companion.

As they passed, they nodded to one another. A quiet greeting. Both had places to go.

Hunter cradled the small bunch of flowers in his arms, careful not to let them get damaged. They were for a special person.

He passed the Elric's residence, arriving at his apartment a few doors down. Inside, he saw that she was not home, so he set down the flowers on a small table by the door and lied back on the couch, setting his feet up on the end and pulling his arms behind his head, eager for an afternoon's nap.

She walked in an hour later, back from some errands.

"Gr-" She stopped, correcting herself. "Hunter?" Out of the corner of her eye she saw something bright, and turned her head to discover the flowers left for her. She picked them up with a smile and walked down the hallway, entering the living room and seeing him asleep on the couch.

With a wider smile, she set down the flowers and went quietly to the couch, settling next to him and into his shape.

He woke up a moment later, startled, and looked down, seeing her nestled against his chest. "Hey there."

She looked up at him. "Afternoon. How are you holding up?"

"Good," he said, stretching. "Where were you?"

Biting her lip, she disengaged from him and sat up. "The doctor's office."

He propped himself up on his elbow. "Why? Is something wrong?"

She placed a hand on her belly and laughed nervously. "Well, what's your definition of 'wrong'?"

"Oh..." he said, a smile forming on his lips as he cocked his head. "That's new."

Laughing, she hit him in the chest, to which he weakly defended. "We should go visit the boys."

Sitting up, Hunter slid a hand behind Anita's neck and pulled her in for a kiss. "Later," he said. "For right now, we have some celebrating to do, right?"

* * *

He had hidden away in the old home for a month or three. It was hard for the child to keep track of the days. Since all that had happened in one day, he'd been stressed with his very existence, keeping to himself and trying to forget.

Now, he slipped out of the small house for the first time since then, and walked out to the edge of the forest, where the ground dropped to the town's level. The town was bustling again, looking more like it was on the verge of being a small city, especially since the construction of new large buildings. The boy looked out on his hands and knees, since he was too afraid to look over the cliff on just his own two legs.

As he scanned the town, something caught his eye. It had been there always, a defining feature of the town, very noticeable, but at that moment it caught the boy off guard. Its blue waters, soft shore, and the impressive, almost dynamic center island. He knew it was there he had to go.

"Mama..." he murmured, getting to his feet and edging towards the cliff. He hadn't eaten any stones since his mother died and since his family left, including his brothers, his pretty sister, and her pet. He also hadn't gotten injured since then, so it wouldn't make sense that he could be vulnerable now.

Using that logic and a child's sense of spontaneity, the boy named Wrath changed the structure of his hand to something much more durable, moved closer to the cliff, and swung over the edge. With surprising speed, he slid down the face of the cliff, landing hard in the back woods behind the more populated areas.

With his appearance, he was easily able to walk the streets of Dublith without much more than a few curious glances. Within a while, about a half an hour, he reached the shores of the lake. His gaze lingered on the distant island before he realized he had no way of getting over to his destination. Looking around, he noticed some boats tied and waiting on the shore. Some had owners nearby, some doting over their vessels, and a few smaller row boats with no distinguishable claim. Despite the number of boats, the island was not a popular spot to visit.

Wrath picked out one boat, a small, rickety thing, and began going towards it, looking around to watch for wandering eyes. No one noticed when the boy untied the boat, pushed it into the water, hopped in and dug out the oar. He began rowing away with one more look, and still no one noticed.

The boy looked ahead, his intense violet gaze on the island, rowing tirelessly, his anticipation growing, and he knew he was where he needed to be.

On the beach of the island, Wrath pushed the boat back out towards the shore of the town, watching it drift away.

He stumbled on wobbly legs, too used to the gentle sway of the water, trying to seek purchase on the loose sand.

"I'm almost home, Mother..." he said quietly as he disappeared into the dark forest.

* * *

A tall, slim woman strode along the streets of a desert city. A time of peace had come over the area recently, after so many years of war or preemptive occupation, a time she'd been waiting for. With Amestris' dictator gone, there was more peace between the advanced and developing nations, more sharing of the cultures, more room to move around.

A month before, she hid out until it was the right time to re-establish herself among the Ishbalans, which was a feat in its own. Before that, she'd disposed of her previous companion, a child-like man of massive girth and an insatiable appetite, which had been unavoidable. He, unlike the other homunculi, had not actually been created from the soul of another being, and therefore had no place left once the rest of them began to change. He was unstable, primitive, and although she felt some remorse in the act, she knew it was the right thing to do.

Once returning, there was no place for her to go where she was familiar, and the manner in which she had left many years ago left her in bad taste. Her old acquaintances would no longer be there, as with her family and dwellings.

No one noticed anything out of the ordinary about her presence, a small procedure, done herself, made sure of that. The tattoo, one she could only hide with a high-necked shirt, or at least higher than she was used to, was scarred with one long gash down the middle of it. At the time, she had to restrain herself from cutting it to oblivion, so she wouldn't have to look at it or suffer the implications put upon the native people, but that would have caused her more harm than good.

Now she walked along the marketplace, her long hair and her tattoo hidden by a scarf she wore around her shoulders and head, a very elegant piece of silk clothing commonly worn by the native women to keep the dust out of their hair. Some men wore hoods, but for the most part didn't care much.

She stopped at a stand with colorful baskets filled with fruits and vegetables she hadn't seen before, or hadn't seen for many years.

"Anything interest you?"

Frozen from the familiarity of the voice, she turned and nearly bruised the soft piece of fruit she held once she saw who spoke to her. "You..."

He looked at her in the same way, with confusion, surprise, and a little frustration. His eyebrows were pulled in tight, manipulating the scarred skin on his forehead, the scar in the shape of a wide X. "You..." he said in like.

They stared at one another for a few quiet moments before he snatched the fruit from her hands, put it back in one of the baskets, and yelled something to a young man nearby, who was busy reading and set the book down to move his seat to behind the stand. It seemed a temporary change of ownership had taken place as the scarred man took her hand and looked at her with his dark eyes. "We should talk."

She could honestly say she was scared as he pulled her away from the marketplace, urgently getting away from the crowds, down a side street, and towards a large fountain. She tugged her hand away, taking a step back. "But, Scar... I don't know what to say to you." While she knew what had happened to his brother, to him, and to his people was not ultimately her fault, humans were humans and the way they acted out of desperation was infamous.

Scar let her stand back, not trying to seem threatening. "I know," he said, turning his back to her, "But, things have changed. I have changed and, clearly, so have you."

She remained quiet for several moments. Then she sighed and approached him again, gently grabbing his hand and steering him towards the fountain. "Alright, we can talk."

"Great," he said, "What should I call you?"

She pursed her lips, "Whatever I was called before." Unlike what she thought would happen, she couldn't recall her old name, her real name. Maybe that would come in time.

As they took a seat on the edge of the fountain, showered by a refreshing mist, especially in the hot desert weather. He smiled at her, "You got it."

* * *

Mustang found his friend on the roof of the redeveloping Central Headquarters, looking out over the city. The scene was reminiscent of the same scene a few months ago, except the Colonel hoped to play it out differently.

He walked up with two cups of coffee, somewhat better since the last time he tasted it. He set one on the edge of the building and pushed it towards his friend, Major Armstrong.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"Yeah, of course."

They stood in silence, drinking the coffee that was uncomfortably hot for a nice spring day, but the jolt of caffeine was just what they needed.

"A lot of changes going on," Mustang offered.

"Yeah, some for the better," Armstrong replied.

The Colonel frowned. His friend was still pessimistic, even after the battle for Central and its outcome. Of course, he knew the Major hated death by violence. Why he ever went into the military was beyond even him.

"So, I guess you still only see gray?" Mustang asked, swirling his cup of coffee around in his hands, watching the deep brown liquid lap up against the sides.

He heard the Major sigh. "Colonel, I know you're worried about my attitude, but worrying won't change it."

The Colonel shrugged, "Who said anything about changing it?"

They looked around uncomfortably, trying to avoid one another's attention. Finally, the Colonel noticed the lovely day.

"Look," he said, pointing upwards. The Major followed his gaze and looked up as well, silent.

"Blue."

* * *

**Well, it's been fun. Thank you for all of the support, and watch out for any future stories, if you want. :3**


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